Fast Times At Hogwarts High
by CatsOnMars
Summary: A petition to make Snape the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. A school field trip. Homemade butterscotch. And all kinds of misbehavior.
1. No Breakfast For Ron

Author`s Note: Me and my sister wrote this together after playing with the idea of the Harry Potter characters as teenagers for a long time. Of course now that the fifth book is out it`s common knowledge that Harry has indeed become a teenager, and as scary as it is our jokes are slowly becoming reality. Keep in mind that this story comes from the points of view of authors who have only seen the moves and read a few of the books. Some characters, like Snape, are presented as being more like they are in the movie, and some the other way around. We don`t know anything about the story past the ending events of Chamber of Secrets, so excuse us for unaccuracy.  
  
Disclaimer: We don`t own Harry Potter by J.K.Rowling, Fast Times at Ridgemont High or any other movies parodied in this story. Our original characters include Professor Linus, Walter Birdman, Cynthia Warbeck, Violet Cadsbury, Professor Alchore, Tomas Raywing, and Stoker Lebane. You may use them if you add a disclaimer crediting this story.  
  
.  
  
For not the first time in the history of his attendance at Hogwarts, Ronald Weasley sat at the table for breakfast and immediately found himself bombarded with questions by other students. In addition to being arachnophobic and a strangely selective eater among having other quirky characteristics, Ron happened to be an insomniac. This meant he would often be awake much earlier than his friends and would drag himself into the dining hall especially early, always managing to do so in his signature manner that was incredibly dorky.  
  
Unfortunately there were always just enough students up that early to give him plenty of attention while he sat to stuff his face with pancakes. They were practically the paparazzi of the school, because whatever Ron told them would be all over the school by the afternoon. But was it *his* personal life they wanted the dirty details about?  
  
"Do you shave before or after brushing your teeth, Ron?"  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
"Where`s H&H?" asked a girl named Violet as she casually helped herself to one of the sausage patties on Ron`s plate.  
  
"Catching up on their beauty sleep," he answered tiredly. "God forbid they stop being the 'cute couple'."  
  
The surrounding croud of ten or so teenagers laughed.  
  
"Well, they are cute," said one kid, who was unbeautifully talking with a lot of pancake in his mouth. "But I don`t think there`s anything that would change them being the most talked-about couple, even if they were the ugliest kids in school. And I for one would say they are definitely not. At least not Granger . . ." He uttered this not-quite- perverted comment in such a perverted way that Ron was forced to twist his face in disgust and kick him from under the table.  
  
"Well, he`s right," said someone else. "No matter what they do they`ll always be immortally popular. Well, maybe unless they break up."  
  
"But why?" Ron asked. "I know it`s Harry Potter, but nobody talked about him this much before he was attached."  
  
"It`s cause nobody gets it," said Violet. "Harry has grown up into a total stud. And on top of that he`s famous. He could have any girl in the whole school, but he picked one of his friends."  
  
"So? Hermione`s cool."  
  
"Yeah, sure. For a friend," said the guy sitting on Ron`s left. "Hermione`s attractive in a cute and nerdy way. Guys want to watch girls like her get better grades than them and go up on stage to accept awards in cute thigh-high tights. They want to *be* with girls like . . . Lucy Parker, for example."  
  
"Apparently not Harry," Ron said. "He thinks Hermione`s totally hot. You should hear him talk about her."  
  
"What does he say?" demanded about five people at the same time.  
  
"Well . . . he thinks it`s good that they`re both Gryffindors and all, so they`re compatible that way. In fact, he can`t imagine dating outside of his own house and doesn`t understand how kids do that. He likes how Hermione`s cool under pressure and stuff. And she`s smart and crafty and recourceful. I think his exact words were, 'She`s basically a typical hot and kick-ass action movie heroine except without the skin-tight leather and martial arts.' I would agree except..."  
  
Ron stopped when he noticed the sound of a pencil scratching on paper, and saw that Roger Harrison was writing as he listened to him.  
  
"Why the hell are you writing this down?"  
  
"For the school newspaper," said Roger.  
  
"We have a school newspaper?"  
  
"Yeah. This week we`re doing an article on school couples. We already got a picture of Harry and Hermione for the Gryffindor page. They`re hot material since Harry`s parents also met at Hogwarts. And because, well . . . fuck, `cause he`s Harry Potter."  
  
"Hey," said Violet. "You should include a page where you list all the former students at Hogwarts who have been married."  
  
"That`s a great idea. That way some of the younger students who don`t date and therefore wouldn`t give a shit about the article can wet their pants when they see their parents` names in it."  
  
"Good morning," said a familiar spunky voice behind them.  
  
"Shit," Ron said, turning. "Good morning, Hermione. These people were just leaving. Honestly, Violet, leave some food for me," he directed at the witch who was still persistently picking off of his plate.  
  
Hermione looked tired, yet polite, when three kids chorused, "Where's Harry?"  
  
Before she could answer Harry stumbled through the massive entrance to the hall, still in his plaid pajamas. He changed into his robes after breakfast quite often, and though some wondered if there was a rule against this, they knew that Harry could get away with it.  
  
Harry had had a sudden growth spurt by the end of his third year at Hogwarts, and was now taller than both Hermione and Ron. His posture, which in the morning was evidently the most sluggish, saved him from standing out too much. He was now yawning, seemingly oblivious to everything else, and was seating himself in-between Hermione and Ron.  
  
Harry grabbed the last of Ron's breakfast and then finally said, "Good morning."  
  
"You look so tired," Hermione said. "Quidditch practice wearing you out?"  
  
Harry replied by turning and hugging Hermione's waist and burying his head into her shoulder, slowly chewing the last of Ron's pancake.  
  
Ron stared at his empty plate.  
  
"Say, Harry...," Ron asked, "Did you know we have a school newspaper?"  
  
" 'Course I do," Harry muttered with his head still rested on Hermione. "I'm the editor."  
  
Roger gulped.  
  
The group munched in silence for a few minutes, until a finger pointed and comically emphasized Harry and Hermione, and Harry heard a clearing of the throat behind him. He looked up. "Oh...Sorry."  
  
"I warned you about PDA, Potter," Snape droned in a tone that seemed to be asking Harry to reduce his need to do any actual work this early in the morning, i.e. scold him.  
  
"I see," Harry folded his arms on the table and used them as a pillow instead. As soon as Snape went on to the Slytherin table, Violet rolled her eyes.  
  
"Why is he such a tight-ass?" she exclaimed.  
  
"Shut up," was all Harry managed as an argument.  
  
Violet looked confused, and Hermione said, "Snape looks out for everybody, not just his house. He's one of the only teachers around here who actually has a clue."  
  
"I think he just pretends to really dislike me," Harry mumbled, his face still buried in the tabletop, "so as not to betray his lifelong hatred for my dad. And he comes down hard on kids from other houses, but he`s actually even worse about punishing his own kids."  
  
"The wanker gave me a three-hour detention for smoking in the bathroom!" some idiot put in. "Three HOURS? For smoking? What was he doing in our bathroom anyway?"  
  
"Exactly," Violet said.  
  
The boy was defeated.  
  
Ron said, "Still, I don't know why he always has to pick on Harry. It's not like they were making out. I mean if I was to..." Ron stood up and walked over to Hermione, "give Hermione a nice good-morning hug..." He obnoxiously threw his arms around Hermione's shoulders and she started giggling, "I don't think Snape would mind. Would you, Harry?"  
  
"Ron."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
.  
  
" 'F'!!! 'F'!!! Another 'F'! Are you kids on DOPE?"  
  
The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had yet to secretly be murderous, fraudulent, or any dangerous creature, but as far as the children at Hogwarts were concerned, he was just as bad. Professer Linus was tall and thin with slickly greased-back black hair, dangerous eyebrows, and a small and pointy goatee. He always wore a slender suit with extremely long tails and strangely-shaped lepels, and very shiny shoes that made loud clicks with his every step. He had an oozing voice which failed to make Defense class interesting and a precise hand for writing notes on a chalkboard faster than any of his students could write. He also had a keen nose for sniffing out snacks being snuck in class and would constantly read people`s private notes out loud if he caught them being passed. In other words, he was the devil.  
  
"Did ANY of you STUDY!?" he continued passing out papers. "Sarah Doorwick, 'F'! Gretch Lundeman, 'F'! Ron Weasley, 'F'! Harry Potter...!!!"  
  
He paused in front of the desk that held an almost sleeping Harry, ready to pounce on his currently slacker-looking exterior, then re-checked his paper, and regretfully muttered,"'A'."  
  
A few grumbles were heard about the classroom, then he continued passing out the papers in silence.  
  
"Harry..." Ron whispered from the desk behind his drowsy friend. He got no answer.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
This time Harry jumped, stunned out of his sleepiness, and turned around.  
  
"Page 241."  
  
Harry blinked, and then looked around to see everyone else delving into their leatherbound textbooks. "Oh." Then he noticed the paper sitting on his desk.  
  
"Ron, look," he turned around and happily showed his friend the perfect test. "What did you get?"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. 


	2. Six Signatures and Walt

"I think we should convince Dumbledore to let Snape be Defense teacher," Harry announced as he and, well, who the hell else, were all walking down the hall.  
  
"Where did that come from?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Well, Proffesser Linus is just evil. In fact, I don`t really understand how you can trust any guy who majors in studying the dark arts. That`s why every guy who shows up for the job ends up being a devious liar or someone otherwise untrustworthy. But Snape is someone we can trust. And he`s always wanted that job, right?"  
  
"Yeah," Hermione said, "but then who would teach Potions?"  
  
"Who cares?" Ron said. "Get some dull guy with inch-thick glasses. But as long as the DADA teacher position is open all the time, it seems like we`re inviting in bad guys."  
  
"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Hermione asked. "Start a petition or something?"  
  
Harry, holding his girlfriend`s hand quietly, was silent for a few seconds, trying not to grin at her signature brilliance. "Um...right. That`s just what I was going to say."  
  
"Like hell you were," Ron said.  
  
"Right. Um. Good idea, babe. We`ll leave that up to you," he said to Hermione with a pat on her back.  
  
"Now wait a minute - " Hermione started.  
  
"Well, people listen to you. You`re convincing."  
  
"Harry." She stopped walking and crossed her arms. He laughed and put his arm around her.  
  
"No, it's a great idea," he assured. "Anyone will sign it. Slytherin is obvious. Gryffindor will sign anything as long as we're holding it. Half of the Ravenclaw kids are warming up to Snape since he set his house-elf to work in their halls after finding out the custodian wasn't on the ball about refilling toilet paper. And Hufflepuff . . . they're probably pretty worried about their Grade Point Average."  
  
"Bloody brilliant," Ron muttered casually as they approached the entrance to the Gryffindor wing. "You know, this password business is really monotonous..."  
  
"Shit, here comes Filch," Hermione warned quietly, and they briskly went inside.  
  
As soon as the wall closed behind them, Harry waved his hand through the air in front of his nose. "Who`s been smoking in here? That`s bad."  
  
"Sorry," confessed Walter Birdman, who was sprawled on one of the massive velvet sofas with a newspaper.  
  
Coughing as she dug in her robes for her wand, Hermione said, "You could at least be considerate enough to get rid of the smell." She then waved her wand in a couple delicate circles towards the ceiling, saying precisely, "Fumorus removera." Instantly the common room`s smoky scent was replaced with a fresh floral smell. With this fixed each of the teenagers found a seat in the room.  
  
"Well. Now that the atmosphere is nice and girly in here we might as well gather a make-out session," Walter said in his patiently masculine Australian accent.  
  
"Shut up," Hermione said. "I had to do something cause Filch is walking around right outside. But you`re perfectly welcome to make out with yourself, Walt, considering that`s all you`d be able to get. We`ll watch."  
  
"I was kidding. Sorry, but don`t you know that`s the only reason anyone assumes that kids our age come in the common rooms anymore? Especially you two," he said, referring to her and Harry.  
  
"Sorry, but that`s not very romantic. Especially if someone`s smoking up all the time."  
  
Ron laughed. "Of course not. Not nearly as romantic as you thought it would be to go into the Dark Forest by yourselves that one night. At least until you got caught, I mean."  
  
"Shut the hell up, Ron," Harry said.  
  
"You guys did that?" Walter chuckled.  
  
"Yeah," Ron confirmed. "The teacher who found them out there must have yelled, 'The second chamber of secrets has been opened! I see a beast with two backs!' "  
  
"Gross!" Hermione said. "It wasn`t like that."  
  
"Did you run into anything really creepy while you were out there?" Walter inquired curiously.  
  
"Nope, nothing I remember," said Harry.  
  
"Frankly I don`t think that was what they had their minds on - " Ron started, laughing uncontrollably, only to be stopped by Harry hitting the back of his head.  
  
"Well, let`s get this petition ready so we can start getting signatures this week," Hermione said, taking some parchment out of her bag.  
  
Harry cleared his throat in a getting-down-to-business manner and said, "Yes, right," happy to have changed the subject.  
  
"What are you guys doing a petition for?" asked Walter.  
  
"To make Snape DADA professer," answered Ron.  
  
"You guys know that this week is that field trip, right?"  
  
"Oh, yeah," Harry said, sounding quite unenthused. "Some history museum or whatever. Sounds pretty dull. At least the hotel should be interesting. I hear there`ll be dragon fighting right outside."  
  
"I think it sounds wonderful," said Hermione, speaking the obvious. "We get to go to Lanceltown. It used to be a great kingdom back in the middle ages. Now it`s one of the most industrial cities run by magic people."  
  
"Dragon fighting. Hey, that sounds cool," Ron said, completely disregarding Hermione`s attempts to interest them in anything remotely educational.  
  
Hermione sighed, getting out her quill pen. "Well, what should we write?" She started to scratch delicately on the open notebook in her lap. " 'We would like Professer Snape to please be given the occupation of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, for the reasons that he would be an outstanding expert in the specific-' "  
  
Ron grabbed the notebook from her lap and took the quill pen, dipping it in her inkwell and instantly scratching out what Hermione had written. The others peered over at him as he wrote: "Please make Snape Defense teacher because he`s not a spychopath and he helps out Ravenclaw with their lavatory problems and he has cool hair." With that Ron ripped the page from Hermione`s notebook and put it on the table in front of them. "There. That`s about all Hogwarts students have the attention span to read."  
  
.  
  
The next morning Hermione perched a table in the hallway across from the entrance to the dining hall. On the table she set her cauldron, which was filled with individually wrapped pieces of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and the petition, neatly displayed on the center of the table. She wanted to put up a banner, but decided it would call a little too much attention to their cause, and simply invited people over with an offering for chewing gum, and then threw them her little speech, opening the petition folder.  
  
That day at 7:00:  
  
"Snape? He`s a bloody imbecile. He`s lost three of my tests so I`m near to failing his class."  
  
At 7:10:  
  
"Of course I`ll sign. I think Snape`s a great teacher. I always skip his class, of course..."  
  
At 7:20:  
  
"What an asshole. Get that thing away from me."  
  
At 7:30:  
  
"What, you don`t like Professer Linus? At least you can cheat really easily in his class."  
  
At 7:40:  
  
"Who the hell wrote this petition?" questioned Cynthia Warbeck, the only signer so far to stop and read what Ron`s crude handwriting said.  
  
"Well?" Ron asked Hermione later. "How many signatures did you get?"  
  
"Six."  
  
"What? That`s fucking shit."  
  
"Did you hit Slytherin yet?" asked Harry.  
  
Cringing, Hermione said, "No. Not yet . . . Honestly, do I have to? By myself?"  
  
"Yes," Harry and Ron said, in their straightforward, no-good-reason manner that never seemed to fail.  
  
"Ugh," she growled. "But what are you guys going to do?"  
  
"Learn to forge signatures," Harry said physiciously, standing up to retire from the study hall.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth as if to protest, but then gave up and sat down. She eyed the pad of paper and the six names, then slapped shut the leather portfolio she'd borrowed from Hagrid, and stood up with determination. 


	3. Gambling and Butterscotch

That night around eight o' clock, Professor Snape was careening through the hallways, reflecting with resentment on the fact that Gryffindor had definitely hired a much better decorator, when he noticed a light on in the Slytherin kitchen. His curiosity was immediately piqued mostly because no child in all of Slytherin could possibly know how to cook, but by the time he got to the doorway his main interest was in acquiring a light snack, perhaps a bowl of fruit.  
  
The kitchen was somewhat small, but its space was conserved in a long, narrow aisle with counters on either side of it. At the very end of it was a wooden icebox that gleamed with a shrine-like quality, and he directly walked over to it and opened it, finding nothing but an aluminum can of tuna, a pitcher of concentrated lemonade, a stupidly misplaced box of cereal, and some discouragingly ancient-looking dairy products. He managed to find a container of lemon yogurt with a safe expiration date, and was just spooning in the first mouthful when he heard a metallic crash from the other end of the kitchen.  
  
"Who's there?" he demanded, just as a brown-haired head popped up from behind one of the counters.  
  
Snape squinted. "Um...Pardon my asking, Miss Granger, but WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?"  
  
She stood up and clanked a fallen aluminum tray back on the counter. "I wasn't hiding, professor, I swear. I'm cooking, see?"  
  
"I suppose I'll believe you when you tell me what you're doing in this kitchen," Snape replied in a questioning tone.  
  
"Our oven is broken," Hermione explained. "Miss McGonnagall let me in. She said yours is never used, it might work the best."  
  
With diminishing suspicion Snape walked over to the oven Hermione was using. He detected a sweet, sticky aroma, and almost smiled.  
  
"What's the occasion for butterscotch?" he asked, bending to rest his crossed arms on the counter.  
  
Hermione blushed a little, and admitted, quite simply, "Boyfriend."  
  
"Ah." Snape scratched the back of his head. "I suppose, being the most familiar with the behavior of the students in this wing, that it would be in my duty to supervise you and make sure you don't get hazed."  
  
It seemed unusual for a house counselor, especially Snape, to degrade their own students, but Hermione honestly wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.  
  
"I'm sure I'll be fine," she replied, and in her own mystery, added, "They don't teach us Defense for nothing, Professsor Snape."  
  
"They sure don't," he agreed in a low voice, and began heading out of the kitchen. "I'll be on the lookout for loiterers, make sure nothing draws them in here. Wouldn't want to disturb the rich romantic ambience in this kitchen." And with that polite mockery, he was out the door.  
  
Hermione's timer, which was a bewitched collection of glass marbles moving in a symmetrical rhythm around eachother, lit up briefly, and she took the treats out of the oven and set them on a sickening-green porcelain plate. And frowned with dread.  
  
.  
  
It is a well-known fact that Slytherin members do not often study, or read. Therefore, about every night in the Slytherin house, there is a massive congregation in their common room for socializing of the most wicked kind. For Slytherin members are known to have the most fiercely adhesive social division of any house in Hogwarts school, but none of them are truly friends.  
  
At exactly 8:24, such a gathering was occuring in the Slytherin room, which involved three different groups involved in different interests. One group was giving Draco Malfoy all of the attention, while the two other groups recently found his fame sickening.  
  
The first group, of which a boy named Stoker Lebane seemed to be the chief influence, was engaged in a gambling fest involving thin, yellowed cards that made it easy to cheat with a simple deterioration spell. The second was a group of boys huddled cautiously around a pile of Muggle pornography, compliments of Tomas Raywing, possibly the most resourceful member of Slytherin. The third was simply a snickering gossip circle, gathered around none other than Malfoy.  
  
At exactly twenty-five minutes past eight, Stoker Lebane was about to get pounded for having his wand up his sleeve, Tomas Raywing had already begun strangling a Second Year for tearing a page of his favorite Penthouse, a couple of Malfoy's buddies were cursing ragefully at eachother over a misunderstanding about a girlfriend, Snape was taking a piss, and Hermione emerged in front of half of the members of Slytherin house, with a cookie tray and a huge grin, and announced, "Who wants butterscotch?"  
  
.  
  
Next morning Harry and Ron were studying the ingredients of a paralysis potion over breakfast. Harry was gulping down some milk when he heard rapidly approaching footsteps, and he jumped about a foot in the air and spilled some of it on his pajamas when Hermione suddenly slammed a Saran-wrapped tray of very burned butterscotch in front of him.  
  
"Eat it."  
  
Hermione walked around the table, which was quite a long way, and sat across from Harry.  
  
Harry pouted with utter confusion. "What happened?"  
  
"Yeah," said Ron. "You look terrible. Ugh," he added as he recieved a jab in the ribs from Harry.  
  
She sighed heavily, with pure frustration, and furiously pushed the petition portfolio across the table, jabbing it into Harry`s ribs.  
  
"Ow...What's wrong?" Harry opened the portfolio. He closed it. He clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. Hermione looked away.  
  
"Um. Hermione...?" he started gently.  
  
"What."  
  
"Uh." He said just above a whisper, "There's no signatures in here."  
  
"I KNOW!"  
  
"Oh. Okay." Harry looked at Ron, who was quite taken aback, and gave him a look that meant something like, "Woooah, shit."  
  
"So...what happened?" Ron asked.  
  
Hermione sniffed forcefully, and began, "The stove is broken....and the butterscotch...they wouldn`t turn out right...and the common room....they ate all the candy, they were like locusts devouring everything in their path. And Malfoy and the guys..."  
  
"What on earth are you talking about? Babe, are you okay?" Harry asked, suddenly quite concerned. "What did they do?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"No. What did they do?"  
  
"Harry, don`t get mad."  
  
"I`m not going to get mad," he said in a dark tone of voice that showed he was definitely about to get mad.  
  
"Well..."  
  
.  
  
"You bastard!" Harry shouted as he attacked the Slytherin eating table, grabbing two fistfulls of Draco`s robes from behind and slamming him forward so that his face went into his plate of scrambled eggs with quite an amount of force.  
  
"Harry, calm down!" Ron said, trying to hold Harry back. "It`s not just Malfoy! They were all doing it! You can`t beat them all up!" But unfortunately Ron was precisely as weak as he looked, unlike Harry who could throw quite a punch for being so skinny, and he was unintentionally thrown back onto the floor.  
  
"What`s the matter, Potter?" Draco laughed loudly, wiping egg off of his face as he stood from the table. "Angry that you missed out on the fun last night?"  
  
"You`re such a bunch of fuckin` pussies!" Ron yelled, interrupting Harry`s mouth just as it had opened to say something. "You know you were taking advantage of the fact that she was alone, cause you knew damn well Harry would kick your ass if he saw you doing anything like that to her!"  
  
"It`s her fault for waltzing in there all by herself!" Draco shouted back. "What did the bitch expect?"  
  
That set off Harry again, and before Draco could move Harry`s fist came into the side of his face.  
  
"Hey!" said Goyle, he and Crabbe getting up from their seats. "You`re gonna pay for that!"  
  
"Stop! Stop! Hold it!"  
  
The command had come from Professer Snape, who had seen the whole thing from far away and had just now made it across the very long dining hall to break up the fight. "Allright, enough of this. Both of you come with me."  
  
"Harry?" said Hermione, who had been climbing over tables to get to the Slytherin group while trying not to rip her leggings and therefore had missed nearly the whole thing.  
  
"Both of you get back to your table," Snape said to her and Ron. Then he grabbed Harry and Draco both by their robes, practically carrying them over into a corner.  
  
"Sir," Draco said. "I can explain. He -"  
  
"Shut up," Snape said, and took Harry to the side where they were out of Draco`s earshot. He didn`t have to ask any questions before Harry started spewing out answers.  
  
"It was them, Professer. All of them," he said. "They harassed Hermione."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"All of them. Everyone who was in the common room last night. She told me everything. They carried her into the bathroom and were sticking her head down the toilet. Goyle stole her shoes. Malfoy felt her up," he said, pointing at Draco angrily. "And Raywing is supplying the male members of the house with porno mags."  
  
"...Oh. I don`t see what that has to do with anything, but allright. Thank you. You can go."  
  
Harry looked puzzled. "I can? Uh...thanks."  
  
"I`m only letting you go because I owe it to you; I should have been keeping a better eye on things. Just as long as you`ll keep this stuff away from Dumbledore. Between you and me, I think he`s a bit too senile for this kind of business."  
  
"Oh. Yeah, sure." Pause. "Wait a minute. Is this just so you can let them off easy?"  
  
"Oh, no. These boys are going to be praying to God for mercy when I get through with them," he said, and Harry widened his eyes almost scared for his own life as Snape cracked his knuckles in a tight fist. "Well. You watch out for that girl. I don`t want to see her getting in trouble with my boys again."  
  
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Actually I feel really responsible." He sighed, realizing he couldn`t exactly explain how this was his fault. "You`re probably wondering what she was doing in the Slytherin quarters anyway."  
  
"Oh, I know that already. The oven broke in the Gryffindor quarters, right? Heaven forbid she be unable to supply her man with some nice butterscotch." With that he gave Harry a suggestive wink and turned to go talk to Draco, leaving Harry extremely confused but relieved. 


	4. Plotting

"Fuck," Harry sighed, slopping onto his bed.  
  
"She`s OK," Ron assured. "Stop beating yourself up over this."  
  
"But it`s my fault," Harry said. "I shouldn`t have sent her off to do this alone. I should have realized she`d be naive enough to go in there like that."  
  
"Keep in mind I refused to help her, too," Ron reminded.  
  
"But you`re just her asshole buddy. I`m her boyfriend; I`m supposed to be the first to volunteer to help her do anything."  
  
"Harry." Ron sat next to him on the bed as he undid the knot in his tie. "You come from a family that is beyond abusive. In your house, they blame you if there`s a power outage. You`ve learned to take responsibility for everything. Just lighten up, man."  
  
"Yeah...OK. But I still need to do something. This petition thing is getting aggravating. There`s got to be something we can do about it. If we can`t fix it then Hermione will feel responsible for it not working."  
  
"What can we do?" Ron asked. "You can`t make the students like Snape more. Or hate Linus more."  
  
Harry`s eyes lit up. "That`s it."  
  
"No. Whatever it is, I`m not doing it," Ron said right away, recognizing Harry`s tone of voice as when he is coming up with a very risky plan.  
  
"Good. I can take all the credit if I do it alone," he approved. "But...you're not going to tell Hermione about it."  
  
"What? What are you going to do?"  
  
.  
  
"HARRY!"  
  
"Shh!"  
  
"Harry!" It was just after midnight, and Ron was clinging to the arm of a determined Harry Potter, who was fully equipped with his good old trusty invisibility cloak and a wand. Most of his body was out the door of their room, save the arm.  
  
"Harry, listen to me," Ron whispered desperately. "It's not worth it!"  
  
"Let me go, Ron," Harry said straightly.  
  
"Look, you daft cunt. You are going to get caught, because you always do, and this time you aren't going to look like the good guy!" Ron's grip on Harry was clawing into his skin. "This is very wrong!"  
  
"Then be glad you're not involved with it," Harry said. "You're clear, Ron. If they catch me, you won't get in any trouble."  
  
"That's not what I'm worried about!" Ron let go, but Harry had the goodness not to run away. "You're gonna get yourself KILLED!"  
  
Harry laughed. "Killed?"  
  
"Okay, expelled."  
  
"It's for Hermione."  
  
"Oh, fuck you."  
  
"Go to bed, Ron."  
  
"Sick...wanker..."  
  
"Goodnight," Harry called over his shoulder.  
  
.  
  
"Attention," McGonnagal was heard over the intercom. "Students will only be attending their first three classes today, in order to enable time to prepare for the field trip. There will be a staff meeting at eleven. All professors are encouraged to attend."  
  
Ron walked into Linus' classroom and spotted Harry already sitting at his desk, reading. On his way to his desk he paused in front of Harry. Harry looked up from his novel at the disapproving Ron, and just smiled.  
  
Ron shook his head and went to his seat. Within the next minute the classroom flooded with students, and the bell rang. Linus appeared from behind his desk at the front of the room, holding a small stack of envelopes bound with a leather cord.  
  
As the students stared in anticipation, Professor Linus slowly and showingly untied the cord around the stack. "These are your progress reports for the entire semester. I see almost no improvement, as usual."  
  
The reports were slowly dealt out in silence, as Linus had become bored with publicly humiliating the students, but the faces still fell into bottled-up hatred. Mouth after mouth opened into a shocked, confused 'O'. It was clear that most of the students, despite their desperate study habits and meakly improved homework grades, were bound to see another year in that God-forsaken classroom.  
  
And there was only one thing left to ask.  
  
"Psst...Hey, Potter."  
  
Harry looked over at the student, who asked, "What did you get?"  
  
Harry was struggling not to smile as he held up his report.  
  
.  
  
"Hey, Granger," a sneering kid tapped Hermione on the shoulder in the hallway after the third class was dismissed. "I hear your boyfriend's flunkin' DADA."  
  
"No, he's not."  
  
The boy just laughed and walked away. A moment later Harry located her and greeted her with a half-hug.  
  
"Hi, Harry," Hermione said. "I heard that you're failing that one class."  
  
"Oh," Harry put on his best look of dissapointment and looked down at Hermione's boots. "Yeah, I am. It's...pretty tough."  
  
"So am I."  
  
"You are?" Harry was genuinely surprised. He then said he was sorry about it, meaning it in more ways than one.  
  
Ron found the two of them, but didn't say much as they all went through the hallway. Then the three of them passed by Linus' classroom, from which a just-now-excused party of furious kids were emerging. Harry observed the devastation in the children, and for a moment he felt pretty bad, but it all proved worthwhile for what happened next.  
  
The three walked through and were almost free of the crowd outside of the classroom, when someone passionately grabbed Hermione by the arm.  
  
"Give us the damn petition."  
  
.  
  
By the time the crowd was done with the once pathetic list of names, Hermione was jumping up and down with pure joy.  
  
"Harry Harry Harry!" she exclaimed. "We just got over a hundred names in fifteen minutes!!!"  
  
And then she threw her arms around Harry, who said to her, "Oh, yeah...Hermione?"  
  
She drew back and looked at his suddenly serious expression. Then Harry suddenly broke out into a smile, and he said, "Happy birthday."  
  
She gasped. "You fucking remembered!"  
  
"Of course I did, silly," Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a Chocolate Frog. "This is all I got. I'll buy you something nice on the field trip."  
  
"Aw, Harry..." Hermione hugged him again, and then they both looked over at Ron, who was standing against the wall with his arms crossed, looking quite sheepish.  
  
"Happy birthday, Hermione," Ron said, and briskly added, "I forgot."  
  
Hermione laughed. "It's all right, Ron."  
  
"Shall we get more signatures?" Ron offered.  
  
"Be my guest," Hermione replied. She handed the folder to Ron, and then walked off hand-in-hand with Harry.  
  
Ron hadn't had time to complain before he was attacked by another mob of petition-signers.  
  
.  
  
"Well, criminal," said Ron to Harry later, who was still grinning from ear to ear from how things were working out for him. He and Hermione had had the last classes off and therefore had stolen tons of private time. "How many grades did you actually change?"  
  
"Shhh, quiet," Harry said, even though he was still too happy to really care. "It was a matching spell. I changed about fifty percent of everyone`s grades to failing or nearly failing. Most of the remaining fifty percent were already failing anyway."  
  
"There`s a spell for this?"  
  
"No, not specifically for that. I took one envelope and carefully erased the grade in it and made it an 'F'. Then I took about half of the envelopes from the stack and used a spell to make them identical to the one I changed."  
  
"Ah. So you didn`t actually change their scores? Just the grades shown on the progress reports?"  
  
"Yeah. Come on. You have to hand it to me."  
  
"You`re a dumbass."  
  
"I`m a genius."  
  
"You`re a dumbass."  
  
"Okay. At least I`m a dumbass with a happy girlfriend." 


	5. Stylin

On the morning of the field trip, Hermione and Ron were enjoying their breakfast at a relaxed pace, overjoyed that they had no classes and didn`t even have to do anything but lounge around for another few hours.  
  
"You look quite happy," Ron commented. "I assume that means you`re better."  
  
"Yes," she said. "I`ve completely forgotten about the other night."  
  
"Good. Then today we can go have some fun."  
  
"Tell me about it. We never do anything like this."  
  
"Attention, students," announced Professor McGonnagal over the loudspeaker. "Remember that the train boards at exactly 11:00 for the field trip. Students must be dressed in nice or formal attire, but do not need to wear their uniforms. Please bring a change of clothes for the following day, pajamas, and hygiene neccessities. The train will arrive in Lanceltown at 5:00 and we will be checking in at the Tower Hotel at 5:30. The next day we will be visiting the Historical Museum of Sorcery after breakfast and leave for Hogwarts after lunch. No classes will follow on that day. Remember to be on your best behavior. Violators of policy will be sent straight home and will answer to Dumbledore himself."  
  
"Did you hear that?" Ron asked. "No uniforms."  
  
"Is that all you can find to be excited about?" Hermione asked hopelessly. Then she looked up at the ceiling and saw some owls begin to fly through the windows. "Oh, look. The post."  
  
"Sweet."  
  
Two owls flew down toward them and dropped an envelope to Ron and a package to Hermione.  
  
"That must be your birthday present," Ron observed. "Hey, look. It`s a letter for all of us from Percy and Penelope."  
  
"How nice. When are they getting married?"  
  
"They don`t know yet. It has to be a time that Charlie and Bill can both make it down to come."  
  
Hermione was opening her box and looking through the tissue paper, and she gasped as soon as she saw what lay at the bottom. "A veratix," she said, taking out a small crystal ball with tiny flecks of iredescent yellow inside. "If the person holding it says something that isn`t true, the flecks move all over the place like atoms and turn red. They`re used in witch trials. Well, I mean, not *those* kind of witch trials," she added with a laugh.  
  
"Cheery. Just the kind of present I would want," Ron said sarcastically.  
  
Hermione smiled, embarassed. "I`ve always wanted one so I can use it to study by myself."  
  
Ron nodded with a "go figure" expression.  
  
"Well, I`m going to go change into some real clothes for the first time in five months," Hermione announced, getting up from the table.  
  
"Knock yourself out," Ron said, and added jokingly, "Hermione`s going to look *sexay* today."  
  
She laughed and walked away.  
  
.  
  
Fifteen minutes before boarding time, Hermione was standing outside with all the other kids with her bag placed neatly beside her high-heeled feet. Standing straight with her arms crossed and her hair up in a neat bun, she somehow achieved a kind of Audrey Hepburn elegance. She was wearing a soft pink button-up cardigan with short sleeves, a short denim skirt with a large belt, and dark panty hose with black pumps. Ron approached her from the side and whistled.  
  
As soon as Hermione turned her head she covered her mouth and couldn`t help but crack up laughing. Ron was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and tie with tight plaid pants with legs that went down too long.  
  
"So, how do I look?" Ron asked, placing his hands on his hips posingly. "Do I look sexy? Am I sexy or what?"  
  
"Nice pants, Ron," she said. "You look like Shaggy."  
  
"Where`s Harry?"  
  
"Didn`t he come down with you?"  
  
"No. I had all my stuff in Benji`s room cause it`s closer. I haven`t been up in our dorm for over an hour."  
  
"What was he doing when you were changing?"  
  
"He was still asleep."  
  
"What?!"  
  
.  
  
"Honestly, could there be a more annoying time for the stairs to be changing?" Ron yelled as he and Hermione climbed the stairways up to the entrance to the Gryffindor quarters. By the time they got to him and Harry`s dormitory door he was too lazy to use any more passwords. Instead they just pounded on the door and started shouting.  
  
"Harry! What are you doing in there?!"  
  
They stopped knocking when the door moved, and it opened to reveal a tired-looking Harry wearing baggy lounge pants and no shirt. But of course, he did have his glasses on.  
  
"Well, you look cute," he said tiredly to Hermione. "Uh...What time is it?"  
  
"Ugh!" Hermione screeched, practically attacking him as she pushed him backwards back into his room. "Don`t tell me you just got up! The boats are leaving for the train station."  
  
"What?" Harry said, actually surprised that he`d slept in so much.  
  
"Get some clothes on. Where is your stuff?" she asked, putting her own bag down on his bed.  
  
"I haven`t packed."  
  
"Why the hell not?" she tried not to shriek at him. "Never mind. You get dressed and I`ll pack."  
  
Ron could have helped if he was a decent human being, but he was quite fascinated by how fast Hermione could do something like this and still manage to do it nicely, so he couldn`t help but only stand by and watch. She tore Harry`s drawers open one after another, throwing items at Harry for him to put on. "Here, khakis," she said, finding the only pants in his collection that could pass as being formal. Then she grabbed a random white T-shirt and threw it at him, followed by a button-up shirt that she commanded him to wear over it. He got on his canopy bed and drew the curtains around him to change while Hermione packed his book bag full of more clothes. "Ron, get me his toothbrush and stuff."  
  
"Yes`m," he said, getting into the drawer of Harry`s nightstand where such things were.  
  
Harry called from inside the curtains, "Can somebody let Hedwig out?"  
  
Hermione went to the owl`s cage and opened the door. "Go on, Hedwig," she said, coaxing it out as it flew from the cage to the nightstand. "We`re going away for a couple days. Enjoy yourself." She opened the window so that Hedwig could fly out and then closed it again.  
  
Harry emerged from inside the bed wearing the khakis, what turned out to be a Hives T-shirt, and one of his plaid flannel shirts that was always comfortable and befitting. Wearing both shirts together looked a little funny since the T-shirt was his own and he filled it out pretty well for not having beefy muscles, and the overshirt was a hand-me-down from Dudley that fit him quite loosely. Hermione, accepting responsibility for the band T-shirt and therefore deciding not to make him get something more formal, came forward and quickly fixed him up, buttoning up the shirt and brushing out some wrinkles here and there and then buttoning the ends of the sleeves.  
  
"Thanks, MUM," Harry said sarcastically.  
  
"Shut up, brat," she said, but then kissed him on the cheek before turning around to get his bag. As soon as she was facing away he undid the buttons on his sleeves.  
  
"Here`s your stuff, babe," Harry said, picking up Hermione`s bag from his bed. He immediately groaned because it was so heavy. "Why do you have so much shit in your bag?"  
  
"It`s my books. To study on the train."  
  
Harry said nothing and shook his head as he zipped her bag open, grabbed the handful of leather-bound books inside and dumped them all onto his bed.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
He zipped up her much lighter bag and handed it to her, taking his own from her, and grabbed her hand to lead her out of the room. "Come on. You guys can`t miss the train just cause I`m a lazy ass."  
  
They were lucky enough to arrive back outside just as they were about to load the boats. As they were waiting to get on Harry noticed Ron`s outfit for the first time.  
  
"Well, hullo, Mister Sixties Day Tripper," he said. "Since when have you had those pants?"  
  
"Since Percy went out of his mod and vintage phase and I got all of his clothes."  
  
"You dress like that all the time when you`re not in uniform?"  
  
"Sort of."  
  
"God, we have to see eachother more outside of school. That`s sad."  
  
"Maybe that dreadful aunt and uncle of yours would let you come visit just to get rid of you some time."  
  
"Yeah right. You`re not thinking on the right level of evilness."  
  
"Haven`t they warmed up to you at all?" Hermione asked. "I mean, after you`ve been away from them for a school year, don`t you think they might be a little forgiving when you come back?"  
  
"Uh...not really this time," Harry said. "I`ll be lucky if they even let me step foot back in their house. I kind of...told them to fuck off the last time I saw them."  
  
Hermione`s eyes widened and she was about to say something scolding when they were interrupted by an enthusiastic declaration yelled from a few feet away.  
  
"Are you three wankers ready to rock or what?!"  
  
They turned their heads to see Fred and George standing with their bags, George holding a boom box over his shoulder. 


	6. Muggle Rock

The five of them boarded a boat, Harry doing most of the rowing. George unhesitantly cranked up the volume on his stereo, blaring music for the students in all the boats to hear.  
  
"Here comes Johnnay heeerre again!" George sang with an encouraging smile. His bellowing and off-tune voice was just as loud and attention- grabbing as the music it overlapped.  
  
"I don't know you people." Ron crossed his arms and looked away, and then he noticed Harry was tapping his feet and mouthing along to the lyrics.  
  
"Not YOU?"  
  
"Even when I'm in ruddy Muggleville all I get to hear is Dudley's Limp Bizkit pizza rock crap," Harry said. "I`ll enjoy it while I can."  
  
As soon as they got out of the boats, it became clear that the school was running late.  
  
"Everybody on the train!" Snape commanded unceremoniously, strolling down the platform toward them. When he passed he whined, "Weasleys, Weasleys, turn down the Ziggy Pop."  
  
"It's Iggy Pop," Fred said snootily, but only when Snape was yards away.  
  
The massive crowd flooded onto the train. There were three different carts, and though one would expect the different houses to massively segregate, the rush to get good seats was so intense that randomly arranged smaller sub-cliques were formed in the compartments. The train technically allowed four people per compartment, but of course many students packed up to seven in one, and these instances were balanced out by couples or bookworm Hufflepuffs only allowing two to a booth.  
  
The obvious three plus Fred and George piled into one, Hermione taking Harry's lap next to George, who was across from Fred, who was griping at Ron for taking the window seat. The boom box got the seat in between Ron and Fred.  
  
Music became their main source of entertainment. The twins let Harry surf through the radio stations, and he found that they were mostly some kind of educational spoken word or chamber music, but found one station that seemed to be entirely Muggle music, and randomly played all kinds. He knew some songs, liked some songs, and hated some others. Eventually they played BBMak`s "Do You Believe In Magic" and Hermione cranked the volume while Harry gave her a cynical look.  
  
.  
  
A couple hours passed, during which time tables appeared in the compartments with lunch sitting on them, and after an hour's time dissapeared. Almost every group of children had found one peculiar way or another of occupying themselves.  
  
A group of Hufflepuffs on the first train car were having some kind of political argument. "See, everyone knows that since the beginning of Hogwarts, Gryffindor has always been the strongest house. But in the past four years, the amount of students accepted into Slytherin each year has increased by almost seventy percent. This one theorist said that such a dramatic change has not been evident, or seemed possible, since the time when You-Know-Who was admitted at Hogwarts, and the power that Slytherin had then was later explained by the theory that a spell had been made to ensue some kind of contagious attraction to evil, and that some kids were admitted to that house because they were ill. And if they didn't brush off this virus..."  
  
"Aw, that's rubbish. The sorting hat could always tell anything, wouldn't matter if you had some stupid 'virus', as you call it..."  
  
Another student added, "But they do say he can't die. Even if the actual human form of who he was has been dead, there's that myth...The guy basically invented black magic, and that force completely overtook Voldemort so that he-"  
  
"Bloody banshees, I can't believe you just said his name, Thorn. You might as well join those slithering perverts..."  
  
Meanwhile, a group of Ravenclaw members were having a slightly more optimistic conversation.  
  
"Dude, like...the world is sooo huge," a girl with a stick of incense used her hands to gesture vastness. "But, like...when there's a Hogwarts? It's even bigger."  
  
"Woah," the boy next to her concurred.  
  
The kid sitting across from her was strumming an acoustic guitar that had bright red eagle feathers hanging from the neck, and he was singing a slow, sporadic song with the lyrics based on verbal charm spells. He had long hair hanging in his face, and his girlfriend reached over and brushed it out of his eyes, and then licked his face. She giggled and fell off the seat.  
  
"Hey, Caesar," the girl said, taking a drag of what she was smoking. She blew a smoke ring onto his foot and said, "This is some good shit."  
  
The boy stopped playing. "It's a fucking cigarette, Gretch."  
  
And a group that happened to consist of the majority of the Gryffindor Quidditch team plus Harry and his friends were playing hacky sack in an open space they'd found. (It looked as if two compartments had been removed, for whatever reason, leaving a spacious stretch of floor in the middle of the train car.)  
  
"So, Fitch," a Keeper asked of the team captain, kicking the hacky sack at him. "Tell me: What's the difference between a Nimbus 2000 and a Nimbus 2001?"  
  
"Well." Fitch served the sack to Ron, who missed it. "One has three zeroes and the other has two zeroes and a one. And, uh, one's black."  
  
"That's it? Really?"  
  
"Yeah. I thought about using a spell to make mine black, you know, just to spite Malfoy after he got one. But he'd probably figure it out and I'd look really stupid."  
  
Then Ron accidentally served the hacky sack straight into Harry's eye.  
  
"Ow!...Hermione? I broke my glasses!"  
  
.  
  
Shortly after that Harry`s glasses were repaired thanks to a flick of Hermione`s wand and their group was back in their compartment, stereo blasting without tire.  
  
"Cause I`m the taxman!" sang a random student as he passed their compartment and heard the music. "Yeeah, I`m the taxmaaaan...."  
  
Fred, sitting across from Harry, pointed at him. "Rock to the Hives do you, Harry?"  
  
Harry looked down at his T-shirt. He had unbuttoned the plaid one so now it was viewable. "Oh. Yeah. This is just something I picked off from poking around clothing resale stores."  
  
"Oh, the Weasleys know all about that, believe me," Fred laughed. "Ron`s a big Hives fan. Wants to be Howlin` Pelle `imself. I can at least say he screams just like him if you stick a spider down his shirt."  
  
Harry laughed. "I like `em fine. I`m more of a Strokes man myself."  
  
"Now that is some decent American muggle rock."  
  
"As opposed to non-muggle rock?"  
  
"Of course. George only listens to the non-muggly stuff."  
  
"But this is your CD, George," Harry said, pointing to the stereo that was triumphantly playing the Beatles.  
  
"You dumbass," Ron laughed. "You don't know about John?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"He was a wizard!"  
  
Harry's mouth fell open. "You're jackin' my broom!"  
  
"No, it's true. He's everybody's favorite Beatle among magic folk..."  
  
"I was always more partial to Paul," Hermione interrupted. "He's cute."  
  
This aroused a rolling of the eyes from most of the others in the room.  
  
"Anyway, John Lennon was a wizard, but not necessarily a very good one," Hermione said. "He dropped out of magic school when he started writing songs. Can we really blame him?"  
  
"Heck, no," Harry said. "Thank God he did join a band."  
  
George laughed. "Listen to you, Potter. You`re an original bohemian. You belong in Ravenclaw, that you do."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
A couple hours later the entire train seemed to simmer down a little, and Harry and Hermione were cuddling together, lying and taking up an entire seat, both looking out the window at the outlining stretches of skyscrapers they could see miles away. Everyone else had dissapeared to different compartments for the moment.  
  
"Isn't the city beautiful?" Hermione said. "I've never seen so many lights before."  
  
"It's pretty," Harry admitted, "But it kinda reminds me of when my uncle took me into the city to buy shoes. See, all day I had to...well, never mind."  
  
Then for the millionth time, Hermione said, "I really hate those people."  
  
"You hate them more than me, hon. I used to fantasize about really bad things happening to them, actually, but after I went to Hogwarts I didn't care so much anymore."  
  
In a subtle joking way she suggested, "You know, here's what I think you should do this summer: Beat up Dudley..."  
  
Harry was already laughing.  
  
"Seriously: beat up Dudley, turn that aunt and uncle into something terrible, tie them to their expensive furniture and apply peanut butter to the roof of their mouths with a big glass of milk sitting just out of reach..."  
  
Harry laughed harder and nuzzled her shoulder.  
  
"And then get out of there and hitchhike to my flat."  
  
Harry stopped laughing. "Hermione..."  
  
"I'm only in Liverpool, Harry - the Knight Bus or something could get you there if you really needed it. I hate summer, I hate always knowing that we are both in the same world, but I can't even talk to you. We`re both in muggle society, we both know how to use a phone, but it can`t be as easy as just calling you."  
  
"Mm...," he squeezed her and closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep. "After next year I'll be out of there. If I'm eighteen I can live alone, I promise I will."  
  
"And you'll visit me?"  
  
"I will visit you."  
  
"Wait...if you could live without your family, couldn't you just...live here?"  
  
"Then we wouldn't be in the same world anymore, would we? Besides, I can be comfortable in the muggle world. I`m familiar with things there."  
  
Neville Longbottom suddenly walked into the compartment and sat down across from them, bobbing his head to a pair of headphones. He waved at them.  
  
"Hi...Neville..." Harry greeted in an unsure tone.  
  
"I found out we're roomed together," Neville commented, taking his headset off.  
  
"Oh, the lists are out?" Hermione untangled herself from Harry and stood to go ask for one. "I didn't even request to be with anyone..." She left into the hall.  
  
"Anyway, do you mind if I take a shower like, at four in the morning?" Neville asked with a very slow, off-the-point way of speaking that emphasized all the wrong places. Harry wondered if he'd had some pot. "Cause, I have this...quirk. I can't wake up any later than that."  
  
He nodded. "That's...yeah. Uh, that's fine."  
  
"Thanks, Harry," he said. "I'll go ask Ron now..."  
  
"No...Neville...I'm sure it's okay."  
  
"Oh. Okay." And he left.  
  
Hermione came back in and tapped him on the head with a rolled-up flyer. "We're almost there, wake up."  
  
"I'm up."  
  
About a half-hour later they got off the train, and the students and teachers had to walk a few blocks before they reached the hotel. The students walked a little slowly, so taken by their surroundings that they felt the need to look in every direction at once.  
  
"Blimey," George breathed in awe. "It`s so...modern."  
  
"And everything is run by magic," Hermione said. "No power lines. No outlets and chords. It`s like....it`s....."  
  
"Magic," Harry finished simply.  
  
"Allright, you are to stick with your assigned roommates as soon as we enter the hotel," Professor Alchore, the Muggle Studies teacher, announced once they had arrived, while standing on a stack of luggage. "Behave yourselves. Especially you students of a certain teen age. I know you won`t listen to me, but I had to say something. See Snape in the morning. He knows a great potion for hangovers."  
  
"No need for that - Look!" Cynthia Warbeck was pointing to a line of machines right by the hotel entrance. "They`re vending machines for potions."  
  
Harry smiled and said to Hermione, "Next time you try to tell me that something`ll be cool, I might listen."  
  
Alchore`s announcement somehow translated to meeting bunkmates *outside* of their assigned room, which seemed just as effective. Ron and Harry got there first, and soon Neville came, followed by Walter Birdman, a.k.a. Walt the Pot Smoker.  
  
"Oh, no...," was all Ron said.  
  
"Well," said Harry optimistically. "This should be interesting." 


	7. House Party

"Dude!" Ron shouted from the kitchen. "We`ve got a whole little kitchen in here."  
  
"And a balcony," Walter observed, opening the french doors that went outside. "We can spit on people."  
  
Harry was with Ron in the miniature kitchen, opening cabinets to see what was already there. There were some pretty generic-looking rations with the hotel logo on the package, but nothing he could really cook with. Then he wondered why he felt the obligation to cook, and grabbed a box of Cheezy Poofs.  
  
"Where are the girls?" Harry asked Walter as he came up to get an eyeful of the balcony.  
  
"The floors all go in circles," Walter recited a surprising amount of information. "The sheilas are in rooms directly behind us. If you go right or left from here, you can get there, maybe even without being seen if you stick to the wall curves and you're not visible from around the bend, y' know what I mean?"  
  
"You have a girlfriend, don't you?" Harry replied.  
  
Walter shrugged. "Two or three."  
  
"I actually wasn't planning on sneaking into her room, I just wanted to know where she was," Harry was convincing, because if he really wanted to admit to that kind of thing, Walt would be the first to really care.  
  
Ron was setting up his toiletries in the bathroom and Walter passed by.  
  
"Hey, Walt?" Ron asked while checking his teeth in the mirror, "Did you happen to get one of the roommate lists?"  
  
"Yeah," Walter appeared in the doorway, wearing a black wife-beater and flannel lounge pants. "Oh...but I rolled it," he added, holding up the joint in his hand.  
  
"I don't suppose you could tell me who my sister's rooming with?"  
  
"Uh, it was Granger, Warbeck, and uh...," he swirled the joint around in the air, trying to jog his memory. He took a drag from it and said, "- some fat chick."  
  
"Great."  
  
" 'Ey, Potter," Walter picked up a glossy black bucket from a long dresser at the front of the room. "I saw some sodas in the fridge in there. How about getting us some ice?"  
  
Ron, forever disturbed by everything he knew of Harry's "home" life, always felt uncomfortable in any situation when Harry seemed to be doing all the work. He raced out of the bathroom to grab the bucket from Walter, but Harry beat him to it.  
  
"Damn, Ron, come with me if you wanna get out of the room that bad." Harry flipped the bucket up in the air sportfully.  
  
So they made their way through the hallway quite slowly, because it was rather crowded with excited students, until they found a small corridor with ice and vending machines.  
  
"HARRY!" they both heard before they could get in the rapidly forming "ice line". Harry turned around to see Ginny Weasley running toward them.  
  
"Hey, Gin," Harry said as Ginny hugged him, her arms only coming just above his waist. Harry had had his prementioned growth spurt, while Ginny was still quite small for her age.  
  
The bond between Ginny and Harry was simply that of a timid girl with an older, unsteady but bright boy who had saved her life four years ago. They saw eachother very little, but Ginny always expressed her gratitude in some way that involved throwing her arms around him and demanding a piggy- back ride. Ron found this very annoying; when they had acted this way at the beginning of the year, he had asked Harry, "Aren't you both a little old for that stuff?" Harry was just relieved that Ginny no longer had a crush on him, and she was even seen often hanging out with boys her own age now.  
  
Harry carried Ginny through the line on his back and she held the bucket for him while he pushed the button for ice. Then Ginny put some ice cubes down his overshirt and ran off. Ron laughed at him while he took off the plaid button-up and shook out the ice. Harry decided to keep the shirt off, noticing that many other students had changed into their informal outfits, and now only had the tight white t-shirt. During the first minute of this, he got asked twice if he'd been working out. He felt self- conscious and made a mental note to look for a bigger size at Goodwill.  
  
When they came back to the room, Walter had removed any odor he`d caused by his last smoke (apparantly he wasn`t completely dense even when high). Not only that, but he was the only one who had thought to turn on the television and see what kind of channels they got.  
  
"Is that the witch cooking channel?" Ron asked, looking over the couch at the large flat TV screen.  
  
"They have witch and wizard channels here?" said Harry.  
  
"Hey, lemme see," Ron said, grabbing the remote. He flipped channels, passing some muggle channels and what Harry was sure was a sorcerer`s home shopping channel, until he found what he was browsing for and stopped on a channel that was broadcasting a Quidditch match.  
  
"Yes! I`ve always wished I had a TV and WWSN. The Witch`s and Warlock`s Sports Network."  
  
"What do they show?" Harry asked.  
  
"Quidditch," Ron said in a "you idiot" kind of tone, like it was obvious.  
  
"Yeah, but what else?"  
  
"What do you mean what else? Quidditch."  
  
There was a knock on their door and Harry and Ron called, "Come in."  
  
Hermione entered, looking very excited. She skipped over to the couch, saying, "Isn`t this great? The showers and faucets have no knobs or anything; you just tell them to come on... Well hello, Walt."  
  
"Hey," he said, able to sound genuinely amiable in his not-quite- sober state. "Look, your hair`s up and stuff. Hey, you look hot, Hermione. And I mean that in whatever way is the least threatening or offensive to your boyfriend."  
  
Harry was unable to protest and Hermione could only say, "Oh...thank you."  
  
"Hey, Potter! Weasley!" Seamus Finnigan's voice echoed from the hallway as he came by their open door. "Check out channel fifty-one! I think it's in Parsel tongue!"  
  
"Woah." Walt immediately reached for the remote and flipped up to that channel. Harry looked over to see a young man and woman holding microphones in flashy clothing. He could understand what they were saying, but he could tell it was dubbed.  
  
"Yeah, it's definitely Parsel," Hermione confirmed, and then a couple people that seemed to be singing came on to the screen. "Harry, what are they saying?"  
  
Harry didn't answer. He was getting up to look closer at the TV, his eyes narrowed.  
  
"Uh, Harry, don't sing along," Ron advised. "That would just be creepy."  
  
"It's..." Harry's eyebrow was cocked in total bewilderment. "It's...MTV!"  
  
"Oh, I've heard of that," Walter said, interested, and yet never surprised by anything.  
  
"I don't wanna watch this," Harry shook his head with sudden distaste. "I don't want to see anything that reminds me with so little decadence of my cousin."  
  
"You got a cousin, Harry?" Walt asked while opening up a drink can between his legs that immediately fizzed over with a bright purple-colored foam, which he bent over with an impressive amount of flexibility to suck up from the lid.  
  
"Unfortunately," Harry answered.  
  
"He's one o' the non-magic tossers," came a voice from their doorway.  
  
"Damn it, Malfoy, go away," Walter said without turning his head, wiping the sides of his soda can with the bottom of his shirt.  
  
And Harry tried a more subtle approach: "Fuck off."  
  
Draco laughed, inviting himself in and walking over to the group. "Right, I'm so scared of Harry Potter, the boy in the cupboard who gets beat on by Muggles."  
  
Harry just sighed at his dull recycled insults.  
  
"His little family had a pretty bad influence on him."  
  
Harry's face was blank and uncaring. Draco added, "But I'd say he's homesick for those Muggles, seeing that mudblood tramp he's with," and then it was not.  
  
"YOU CUNT! I'LL SEE YOU-MAAgHrehhh!!!" his insults were cut off by a swift Walter grabbing him by the shoulder and cupping a hand over his mouth.  
  
"Calm down, mate, take it easy, take it easy," Walter struggled with Harry and shot Malfoy a look that seemed to say, "Now look what you've done."  
  
The television said, "Exxxx Ssirissss msssss hhhhhossss isss Ssai...."  
  
Neville, ignoring everyone else, siezed the remote and changed it back to WWSN. Malfoy`s attention was grabbed by what was now on the TV. "Quidditch match! Move over." He pushed Neville aside on the couch, who was easily bundgeable, and instantly was drawn into the TV screen.  
  
"WhhhBddafffck!" Harry said into Walter`s hand, which translated to a confused "What the fuck?" Walter let go of him and started to watch the game.  
  
"Who`s your team?" asked Ron.  
  
"Black Cats," Draco said.  
  
"All RIGHT," Ron responded approvingly, obviously a Black Cats fan himself.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione. They were the only two who didn`t suddenly seem to be in a trance watching the Quidditch game. "Um..."  
  
"Want to go find Fred and George?" she asked.  
  
He nodded, and they both left, their absense quite unnoticed.  
  
.  
  
Within the next hour Fred and George were found and retrieved, and also into the room came Ginny, Benjamin, Seamus, Cynthia, Dean, and some more girls that apparently knew Walter. The boys who were watching the Quidditch match continued to cheer and boo at the TV simultaneously with every point that was added to either the Black Cats or the Pythons. Then around 6:45 the match ended and everyone came back to the real world, including Draco who looked around like he`d just woken from a coma and was wondering what he was still doing there. Shortly after that Crabbe and Goyle came looking for him and he left. Around this time dinner was being served downstairs in the dining hall to the few teenaged students who were actually choosing to eat there, the younger students who were required to, and all of the professors. All of the other students were either upstairs enjoying naughty unsupervised fun or going out into the city to eat and do heaven-forbid-what-else. Fred reported having looked out a window in Ginny`s room and seing a large group of Ravenclaws running around the block with a tambourine and drum. And then, when asked why every single member of Slytherin seemed to have vacated the hotel with the intention of going somewhere they were very excited about, he said, "You don`t want to know." Harry and his friends were not the only ones to discover in their room a menu for owl delivery that offered any kind of food imaginable. They took fine advantage of this and ordered three pizzas along with plenty of soda.  
  
As the night became less young and less innocent, the crowd in Harry and Ron`s room grew proportionately. It got to the point where Harry would often lose track of where Ron or Hermione was, but mostly Ron who mysteriously would dissapear at the same time that Cynthia Warbeck did. As if by magic the clothes became less and less formal and the music became louder and the professors were appearing less and less in the hallways. Benji Arsonick discovered the twins` stereo and appointed himself DJ for the night, and one of Walter`s girls put a spell on all the lights in the room to make them blink like strobe lights. At one point the crowd in a corner cleared an open space where Dean Thomas was breakdancing (quite impressively, to everyone`s surprise). By 10:30 Hermione was lounging without her shoes because her feet had gotten sore and she was now wearing holes in the bottoms of her panty hose, George and a boy from Ravenclaw were kissing on the couch, and Ron was appearing from the bathroom looking very tired and happy at the same time.  
  
Harry, who was moshing to Rage Against the Machine with a big crowd, stopped when he saw Ron. "There you are."  
  
"Lights-out...is in ten minutes," he said.  
  
"What?" Harry looked at his watch. "We have to get everybody out of here."  
  
"They`re going to come around and do a head count. Everyone has to be in their assigned rooms to appear at the door and be checked."  
  
"Oh. In that case you probably want to wash Cynthia`s lipstick off your face."  
  
.  
  
That night, about an hour after lights-out, everyone in the guys' room was still awake, except for Neville, who had fallen asleep with his headphones on in the bed he seemed to be reserving for only himself. Walter was sitting cross-legged against the bars on the balcony smoking a cigarette. Harry skimmed through some Divination notes by candlelight while talking to Ron, who lay on his back next to him.  
  
"I don't know if they'll even listen to us about this petition, Harry," Ron admitted. "It would help if Linus actually seemed like a bad person, but he doesn't. He`s just not the best teacher."  
  
"I thought about that," Harry said. "That's why I almost changed everyone's real grades, so that even Dumbledore would know about it. Because bringing out the truth that he`s a horrible teacher is really our only chance."  
  
"But that`s an even worse thing to do. I kind of feel like we`re turning into the bad guys here. He`s probably got perfectly good intentions and we`re just idiotically trying to ruin his career."  
  
Harry smirked. "It`s funny. I used to hate Snape. I thought he was the most terrible teacher in the world and I dreaded his class. Now that`s what it`s like with Linus. Even if he`s not a terrible murderer in disguise, don`t you think Dumbledore would like having a teacher who at least acts like he wants his students to get good grades? Especially the teacher of such an important subject."  
  
"I guess you`re right. I don`t feel like I`ve honestly learned anything in that area since I`ve come to this school. And I think I`d like to know how to defend myself. You know, in the life and death situations you always seem to get us in."  
  
"Shut up." Harry threw his notes onto the carpet and stretched his arms. "Well. Snape would come through in that position. I don`t think there`s anything he can`t handle in the area of defense. Linus just seems more like someone we want to defend ourselves against, not be taught by."  
  
A chuckling was heard from the balcony. "Snape hates his ass," Walter said.  
  
Ron and Harry looked at him. He was grinning widely, twistedly happy about his secret. He put his cigarette in his mouth for a moment and added, "He dislikes everyone who comes into that position, but he passionately hates Linus...I saw something he wouldn`t want me to see." He snickered.  
  
Ron sat up and Harry stared at him alertly. "What did you see?"  
  
"Oh, they were just arguing really late at night out in the hallways. I`d been sneaking into Dianne Fitton`s dormitory, and when I was coming back I heard them and hid behind a pillar. They were pretty far away but Snape was being really loud."  
  
"That`s pretty weird," Harry said. "The teachers never talk of eachother negatively, so you never imagine anything like that would happen. What were they arguing about?"  
  
Walter narrowed his eyebrows, straining to remember. "I don`t know...Something that didn`t make a whole lot of sense, now that I think about it. Whatever it was, Snape was so angry about it that he accidentally exploded a chandelier."  
  
Ron laughed loudly, and Harry smiled as he recalled similar mistakes he`d made when pushed too far by the Dursleys.  
  
Still laughing, Ron said, "I`m surprised there were no rumors circulating the next day about the chandelier parts all over the floor."  
  
"I cleaned them up," Walter said. "I felt kind of sorry for Snape - I mean that`s really embarassing when you do stuff like that on accident. So when he was gone I cleaned up all the glass so no one would be questioning about it. You can`t tell there was ever a chandelier there."  
  
Ron shook his head. "You`re pretty weird, Birdman." 


	8. Breakfast Club

Authors` Note: We haven`t thanked anyone for the reviews as of yet, so we wanted to add a note of gratitude. You guys rock. The updates are going to start slowing down, but don`t worry, we`re still writing it. Enjoy. .  
  
.  
  
Some students were already up and running around into other people`s rooms quite early in the morning. Breakfast was to be served downstairs at 7:00, but most older kids were once again going to be resorting to vending machines and owl delivery for that.  
  
"I really don`t feel like going downstairs," Harry moaned, dragging his feet to the TV to go turn it on.  
  
"Yeah," Neville agreed, looking around at everyone`s faces. "You all look pretty shitty."  
  
Hermione, for once, was the only outsider hanging out in the boys` room, and she and the others were sitting on the floor. Walter had crashed on the couch the night before and was still sleeping there, so they had used a charm to make the couch weightless and move it so they could sit close to the television.  
  
Hermione yawned. "What I really feel like is having a nice home- cooked meal. The idea of eating eggs from that buffet downstairs is really nauseating right now."  
  
"We`ve got eggs in the kitchen," Neville offered.  
  
"But who would cook it? We need a mother," Ron laughed. "Hey, Harry. Can you cook? Didn`t you say your aunt and uncle make you cook them breakfast all the time?"  
  
"Yeah, I can cook pretty well," Harry said. "If it`s breakfast."  
  
"Can you make an omelette?" Ron asked eagerly, starting to sound excited about the idea.  
  
"Can I make an omelette," Harry repeated the question, pretending to ponder. "Can I make an omelette, yes I think I can make a bloody omelette."  
  
"Oooh! Can I have poached eggs?" Hermione asked, her hands rubbing together excitedly.  
  
"You can have eggs any way you want, sweetheart," Harry said with more stature than affection. "What about you, Neville?"  
  
"I`m fixed," he answered. "I just ate a lot of chocolate frogs."  
  
"Allright," Harry said, standing up. He was smiling, realizing this was in a most pleasant way like nothing he had ever done before in his life.  
  
Hermione and Ron started to get up. "Well, you don`t have to do it all by yourself. We`ll help-"  
  
"No no no, you stay put," Harry insisted, pushing them gently back down onto the floor. "I`m going to cook. You guys can sit and chill."  
  
"Harry, all you do is work your ass off at home," Hermione said. "The last thing we want to do is put you to work."  
  
"No! No!" he said before they got up again. "Please. I have never ever made anything for anybody before without secretly hoping they'd choke on it! For just one time in my life, I`d like to prepare a meal for good people! Think of it as helping my karma."  
  
Harry`s eyes fell and lingered on the face of Ron, who he knew as a complete coward who would run away from danger before stopping to help someone. So many evil things that had come out of that mouth.  
  
"OK," Harry said. "Maybe not good people. People that I care about, though. This is completely different than at the Dursleys`. You`ll be the ones spoiling *me*."  
  
So Harry got to work in the kitchen, making a lot of noise with pots and pans. Harry went into a different world; he could whip eggs like a freak robot and toss pans artfully. He was like some Betty Crocker breakfast version of a Teppan cook. All his friends heard from the other room were vigorous noises of working.  
  
"Neville!" Harry called, and the round-faced and admittably good- intentioned spaz appeared in the kitchen doorway. "I need bacon."  
  
"What do you want me to do about it?" Neville asked.  
  
"Go downstairs to the buffet and steal some."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Here."  
  
And Hermione and Ron saw a plate fly out of the kitchen which Harry had thrown like a frisbee, and Neville just barely caught it.  
  
.  
  
Neville felt very self-conscious, walking away from the buffet with a plateful of just bacon. He didn't see Fred and George coming up on his side, and when Fred loudly greeted, "Ahoy, Neville!" almost right into his ear, he jumped and dropped the plate, which crashed into several pieces.  
  
"Hey, sorry, Neville." George had the kind heart to kick the broken pieces under a table for him. "What's with all the bacon?"  
  
"Harry's making breakfast for his friends upstairs," Neville explained. "He didn't have any bacon, so he sent me."  
  
"I get it." George, as if for no good reason except wanting to look ridiculous, had thrown a bathrobe on over his casual clothes.  
  
"So now I don't have a plate," Neville added.  
  
"Hey, we'll help you out," George stole off to the buffet, ruefully cutting in line, and started packing several strips of bacon into the breast pocket of his robe. Fred thought it was ingenius.  
  
Fred and George invited themselves to accompany Neville upstairs. Out in the hallway of the first floor George glanced over his shoulder and suddenly halted, stopping the other two with an outstretched arm. "Hey, look at this."  
  
The three turned to see a group of six Slytherin members all lined up in a stern row next to a stairway, with their backs to them. Professor Linus, who they then realized they'd seen very little of during the trip, was pacing back and forth in front of them.  
  
Fred was trembling with excitement. "Ooh! Ooh! Let's get closer so we can hear!"  
  
"But not enough so that it's obvious we're listening," George advised.  
  
"Right there, we'll sit on that couch," Fred said, but abandoned their strategy by frollicking up to it a little too eagerly. George followed, and though Neville realized it was probably a bad idea to take after a guy with bacon in his pockets, he also walked over to the couch. When they sat down they noticed that while Linus was barking at the students, Snape was also there, standing a few steps away from the students and looking quite a bit embarassed.  
  
"I hope you all had fun last night," Linus's voice was grim and more scratchy than usual, and though the twins weren't in any trouble they got the chills just from hearing the lecture. "Because you seem to have forgotten that your ability to leave the hotel premises was a PRIVILEGE, and neglected to make your curfew. All SIX of you were nowhere to be seen at your lights-out check. Perhaps your Head did not make it clear enough to you that you were to be in your rooms, sober and at the least SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE at exactly 11:30. And yet, even though no one reported to have seen you on your floor until well over two hours later, you still did not feel any obligation to return to your assigned rooms. You will ALL be sent home, will answer to Dumbledore, and will not be allowed outside of your dormitory after five in the evening for the rest of the year. In addition, sixty points will be subtracted from Slytherin house. Understood, you wallowing holecakes?!"  
  
Then Linus shot a look at Snape. The three couldn't see Linus right then, but they could see the unsettled look that registered on Snape's face. And then it was his turn.  
  
Snape's boots chucked slowly over the ground in front of these students, and if Linus wasn't aware of it, Fred and George were quite sure he hadn't really figured out what to say.  
  
After a while, Snape finally turned to them and demanded, "Might ANY of you explain the reason for such a misdemeanor?"  
  
The children seemed petrified. None of them had uttered a peep the whole time they'd been lined up for this humiliation.  
  
"Anyone?" Then Snape did what he always did. He picked a student and halted in front of him. "How about you, Mister Dragonfly?"  
  
He had stopped in front of Holmost Dragonfly, who simply gulped. For what seemed like forever, Snape just stared at him, and he just stared back, until the onlookers felt bad for him, wondering why he didn't offer any kind of stupid answer.  
  
"Well?!" Snape snapped. "Cat got your tongue?"  
  
Then he spoke. Or tried to.  
  
"No' esackly."  
  
"What?" Snape was no longer up in his face, only batting his leg with his wand impatiently.  
  
"Shee...Uhm twyin to..."  
  
Then Snape jerked as if he'd seen something terrible, and he yelled, "Oh, my LORD..." He walked back up to the boy and rudely grabbed his jaw. He yanked his mouth open, and immediately grimaced with sheer disgust.  
  
"Oh, GOD...Linus, you better have a look at this."  
  
.  
  
Ten minutes later Neville came with the bacon, followed by Fred and George. They all had smiles on their faces that showed quite transparently for those in the room that knew them well enough that they had just seen something hysterically funny.  
  
"It`s the Ravenclaws and Slytherins," George burst. "A whole bunch of them went to body piercing and tattoo parlors last night."  
  
"Oh no," Harry said, who had come out of the kitchen with oven mits on to hear what was going on.  
  
"Yes," Fred said, laughing. "A bunch of Ravenclaw kids have got black feathers tattoed on them. But, that's really just the beginning...The Slytherins..." He was laughing too hard to finish.  
  
"They`re more snake-like than ever," George explained. "Four of `em got their tongues split."  
  
Hermione gasped. "Euww..."  
  
"Also, Malfoy`s got a tattoo of a serpent coiling around his arm. He`s showin` it off like crazy. Crabbe and Goyle both have a fancy 'S' for Slytherin on the backs of their necks."  
  
Harry shook his head. "You know, somehow I don`t think Malfoy`s dad could possibly be OK with that."  
  
"The professors are all lining up these kids to look at them," George laughed. "You should see the looks on their faces. They`re *terrified*."  
  
"You think they'll get in trouble with parents?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Nah, parents mostly regard anything that's not magic-related as being the kid's fault," Fred said, voicing from experience. "Besides, I'm sure there's some potion from the makers of Skele-Gro that will fix it up when these people get sick of not being able to talk right."  
  
"That's punishment enough," Hermione said. "Everyone knows those healing potions taste awful, and as far as tattoos? The spell for removal is rather simple, but uh...it doesn't exactly tickle."  
  
This got a laugh from the rest of them, and Harry went back into the kitchen, still rubbing his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shuddering at the thought of it.  
  
"I can`t believe it," Ron said, shaking his head. "A tattoo parlor...I never would have imagined those kinds of businesses to exist in magic establishments. Even with this place being so modern and muggle- influenced."  
  
"Probably a shabby multi-business store for people obsessed with muggle culture," Hermione explained. "Lots of people in this city specifically are starting to imitate muggles in their style and everything. I think I even saw a raver walking around yesterday before we came into the hotel."  
  
The twins were somehow getting a kick out of Harry's food service, and when no one was looking they pulled an empty cart they found somewhere in the hallway into the room. They also worked together to pull Walter off the couch and toss him onto Harry and Ron's bed without waking him, so Ron and Hermione could sit there. They managed to do all this while the two breakfasters were on the lower level browsing through the gift shop.  
  
Ten minutes later Ron and Hermione came back into the room, and everybody seemed to have left. Without really thinking about it, they both took Walter's new location as a cue to sit on the couch while Hermione made fun of a cheesy magnet Ron had purchased at the shop.  
  
Then the kitchen door popped open and a cart came out, followed by Harry pushing it smoothly around the corner and toward them. He looked strangely cheery as he stopped the cart with their meals right in front of them. Hermione noticed a rose sitting on the arm of her side of the couch, and wondered whether it had been a fork or a quill pen five minutes ago.  
  
Unlike Hermione, Ron wasn't impressed enough to hesitate before shoving a heap of eggs into his mouth. His eyes immediately widened. "Mmm...Oh, this is good. Harry, this is really, really good."  
  
"Why thank you, Ron," Harry said. He looked over at Hermione, who had a forkful in her mouth. Stunned, she nodded in tacet agreement.  
  
George had returned to the room during all this, and said, "Lemme try some..." As soon as he approached the two of them they both snapped up their plates protectively.  
  
"Oh," was all he said.  
  
"Mom, not cabbages again...," Walter grumbled in his sleep. Ron and Hermione paused to register this, and then kept chewing happily.  
  
A half-hour later the students were checked in their rooms again by their house Head, who told them that the entire school was meeting in front of the hotel entrance at nine o' clock to walk to the museum. They were also told that wands were not allowed in the museum, and any seen by a teacher would immediately be confiscated.  
  
The students were only told to look "decent", but a message was passed among Gryffindors to dress up a little just for fun, so they could seem like the most proper house at Hogwarts. Harry layered a scarlet tee over a collared shirt, and during a visit to Fred and George's room Lee Jordan offered him a skinny black tie which he borrowed. He was glad he did, because as soon as he walked up to Hermione outside of the hotel she smiled and clapped with glee, telling him how handsome he looked. He also complimented her outfit, which was a long grey skirt with layers of black lace trimming at the bottom, and a black sweater with bell sleeves.  
  
Ron wore the pants.  
  
Upstairs, the completely ignored Walter Birdman was just waking up. Everyone else was either at the meeting spot or on their way there, but he calmly sat up as if everything was going to plan and he had woken up exactly at the right time. He brushed his brown hair out of his eyes, stood up and scooped some pants up off the floor to change into. A few minutes later he emerged from the bathroom with brushed teeth and combed hair, and was grabbing his jacket when he noticed the plate that Ron had eaten off of sitting on the TV. He went over to it, grabbed a neglected piece of bacon, and popped it into his mouth. In mid-chew, he thought aloud, "Is that...lint?" Then he shrugged, swallowed the rest and headed out the door. 


	9. The Museum of Sorcery

After a loose round of attendance checking, the massive group of kids took off on the forty-minute walk to the museum. Their line took up about two whole blocks, and it was impossible to keep track of where any of the professors were, or for the professors to really be keeping track of the children.  
  
Harry and Hermione walked together, holding hands. People noticed how classy they both looked, and Ron, walking a few feet behind them between his brothers, heard someone croon, "My GOD, they are so cute." Ron didn't really mind that they were off in their own little world, because as much as it would be fun to joke around with Harry he knew that Hermione would be lecturing them on every single building they walked by, and he'd rather catch up on sports (a.k.a. Quidditch) talk with Lee Jordon and his brothers.  
  
But Harry and Hermione started to laugh and talk more at the point when Ginny ran up and fondly locked arms with Hermione. The three walked - occasionally skipped - along, dropping sarcastic remarks or making up laughable stories about their surroundings. Ron was a little annoyed with his sister, but had already gotten used to his siblings being of more amusement to his friends than him, and he reminded himself that Harry and Ron knew eachother so disturbingly well now that it was probably better for him to make some new friends. Just as he was thinking this, Harry broke off from the group because he just had to tell him this one absolutely, totally hilarious thing that Hermione had just said about her grandfather's dog in Italy who had choked on a mistletoe in 1971, which Ron had to admit was pretty funny.  
  
When the students approached an impressive-looking building with many gargoyle sculptures on the roof and every outside wall space featuring a dragon carving of some kind, they 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed and then asked where the bathroom was. Because Harry and Co. were closer to the front of the crowd, they had plenty of time to sit on the stone steps to rest until all the students would get there, and probably more time after that while some authority somewhere was "organizing things", because that's how field trips work.  
  
Ron was playing rock-paper-scissors with Lee, and he looked down to see Hermione on the steps with Harry, digging into her handbag. She pulled out a case of foundation and opened it, then hurriedly caked some onto the applicator.  
  
"Okay," she said, and a distracted Harry then turned to her and let her pull his bangs off his face and wipe the pale foundation thoroughly onto his forehead, covering up the famous scar. Other people were staring, looking confused, but Ron understood why it might be a bad idea to go into a museum looking like Harry Potter. It was weird enough that his name was in a couple of their books at school, but if he was recognized in a museum he might be treated more like an exhibit than a visitor.  
  
"All done," Hermione told Harry cheerfully, and then she pulled out a plastic comb and corrected some tangly spots in his wind-blown hair. Still bored, she asked, "Hey, did anybody bring the petition?"  
  
"Yeah, Ron's got it here," said Harry. "I think he got ten or so signatures at the party last night."  
  
Hermione walked over and, without asking, tugged the smaller notepad they'd converted the petition to out of Ron's back pants pocket. "Oh, good, now *you* can hold onto it," Ron said.  
  
Hermione walked back over to sit next to Harry. She pulled out a pencil and tapped it to every name, counting the signatures from the very top of the list. Then she closed it, yawned, "A hundred and twenty-seven," and set it on the steps in front of them.  
  
The professors came around and split everyone into groups of about seventy-five people, and these groups were scheduled to see different areas of the museum at different times. They seemed to care a great deal more about making sure the younger students knew what group they were in and were just a step above ignoring the kids of Harry and his friends` ages. Then, after the groups were marched off to wait outside in different places, it was another five minutes of waiting before an enthusiastic tour guide called them to attention.  
  
"Well, Hell-o-O, Hogwarts!" the guide greeted happily.  
  
"Hello," they all replied in unexcited tones, looking up to see a thin brown-haired young woman in a pleated dress that resembled a choir robe without sleeves. Hermione gave Harry a dissapointed look that basically said she wished they weren't with a school, so they wouldn't have to deal with a person that gets hired to tour first graders.  
  
Fred and George snuck up to them in their usual up-to-no-good manner which seemed to always be part of the way they acted even when they were doing nothing wrong, and said in Harry`s ear, "Come on, let`s pop off."  
  
"What?" he said. "Don`t we have to stay with the scary smiling lady?"  
  
The twins answered by pointing in the direction of about twenty other late-year students who were wandering off straight away from where the tour was headed.  
  
"Well, I guess that`s settled. Come on, Hermione."  
  
Hermione also was about to protest but was silenced by the sight of the mob of other students who were leaving. Ron followed with no questions.  
  
When they were inside and away from the crowd they began to decide where exactly to go and what they were possibly actually interested in seeing (this did not count Hermione, of course, who wanted to see everything but was quiet as if in surrender, knowing that with the friends she had to stay with that was quite impossible).  
  
"Well, we don`t know where anything is," Harry said. "Usually at museums you can at least pick up some map that`s impossible to read."  
  
Suddenly something darted in front of them from the right. "Oy, young visitors!" said a ghost that had come from nowhere. "I am your museum guide at your service."  
  
"Oh, no. That`s even worse," Ron said with sudden dread.  
  
"We were just kidding," Fred said, herding everyone away. "We`re homeless people who live here in the bathrooms. We know our way around quite fine."  
  
So they decided to wander aimlessly with no more intent in mind than a regular group of loitering teenagers. Every once in a while they would walk by a booth selling some kind of enchanted version of ice cream or coffee. Eventually they found a small cafe that was across from a gift shop, and the group stopped to separate based on whether each of them was thirsty for a mocha or wanted to buy a stupid hat shaped like a huge cauldron. After seeing that the shop`s merchandice was more in the way of fun for thick-headed tourists than education and had nothing like books about Lanceltown for sale, Hermione went across to the cafe and sat down to drink a Dragontail Chai.  
  
Harry, however, found something worth buying in the back of the store and came out holding something behind his back.  
  
"Catch," he said when he was in front of Hermione, twisting around and throwing something to her with the arm that was still behind his back. It was a small velvet jewelry box of dark red. Hermione looked at him in disbelief and he said, "You know, for your birthday."  
  
She opened up the box and found a smooth and shiny silver band with intricate engravings of swirly, scrolly designs around it. On the inside of the band was an almost unnoticeable engraved heart with dove wings on each side. The designs were so detailed for their size that the ring only could have been crafted with use of some kind of magic.  
  
"Harry!" she could only gasp.  
  
"I know it`s not a real great idea or anything," he said modestly. "I didn`t know if I picked it out right. They had some moonstone and garnet rings I was thinking about."  
  
"You idiot," she said. "I`ve never bought *you* anything this nice."  
  
"And I`ve never bought you anything in my life...Fine. You don`t like it, I get the point," he said, reaching for it. Hermione snatched it back and ended up closing his finger in the box.  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
His expression dropped to a pleasantly surprised one, though, when she grabbed his tie and pulled him forward, kissing his cheek.  
  
"Oh..."  
  
Hermione had the ring on once the twins came over from the gift shop. "Honestly, what a bunch of junk," George was saying. "What kind of a numbhead would buy any of those souvenirs?"  
  
In answer to this, Ron suddenly appeared with an exagerratedly huge pointed hat on his head with the museum logo on it, sucking on a huge lollipop in the shape of a moon.  
  
"You`re not serious?" Harry begged.  
  
Ron looked at the many eyes staring at him. "What? Come on. This crap is so stupid and useless you can`t resist."  
  
The group looked around at the broomstick invention exhibit, which Harry and the twins with their sports-driven minds undoubtably expected to be more interesting, and went to a room where the wands of many famous wizards and witches were on display, and even saw some body parts and wizard portraits in the rooms and halls that all blurred together into one uneventful experience. They eventually found themselves back at another cafe, sitting around one table boredly. Fred and George wandered off when they became abnormally amused by an old lady who seemed to have fleas hopping around her head. Ron was starting to see blue blotches in his vision and was questioning the potion ingredients of his lollipop that was supposedly capable of making his eyes turn different colors like a mood ring.  
  
"Do they look even a little different?" Ron asked, leaning in towards Harry with his eyes wide open. The sight made Hermione laugh.  
  
"No. I don`t know," Harry said. "It`s not like I`m looking at your eye color all the time. They could be a little darker."  
  
Ron pulled away, blinking his eyes awkwardly from keeping them open for so long.  
  
Harry yawned. "I knew this was going to suck."  
  
"Last night was great," Ron said. "But now I`m so tired from it and the walk here that I`m about to pass out."  
  
"Me, too," Harry agreed. "In fact, I haven`t had much sleep lately at all."  
  
"Yeah, what`s with that?" Ron asked. "You slept in like crazy the night before last. What were you doing that kept you up so late?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "I can`t even remember. Probably an assignment."  
  
"And the night before that you just *had* to sneak around into the Defense classroom to change the grades. And before that..."  
  
His speech trailed when Harry gave him a wide-eyed look. But Hermione had heard perfectly.  
  
"You what?" she said to Harry in a flat, dangerous tone.  
  
"Yeah, and the night before that I had that big essay to do for McGonnagal. Her homework really sucks," Harry went on, trying to take her attention off of it. But then a silence followed.  
  
"I can`t believe you did that," Hermione said quietly.  
  
Ron, uncomfortably breaking the silence, said, "Um. Hermione, he just wanted to fix things so that-"  
  
"I need to talk to you, Harry," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him up from his seat and away from the table. "Alone."  
  
And then Harry was being dragged into a room, feeling it wasn`t an appropriate action to alert Hermione of the "Staff Only" sign on the door they were going into that she was too angry to notice.  
  
As soon as they were inside the cramped room, which had no light except for what came through the small glass window on the door, Harry said, "Please, Hermione. I felt bad about what happened and I didn`t know what else to do. I refused to help you get signatures from Slytherin and you ended up getting hazed because of that. Even when I punched Malfoy`s lights out it felt like I hadn`t put anything right. It kind of seemed like if I did something to help the petition, that would sort of undo my mistake before. Dammit...But it was worth it. It made you feel better, at least."  
  
"So what?" Hermione fumed. "You completely disregarded the fact that in essence it was a completely wrong thing to do."  
  
"I didn`t change the actual grades, just the progress reports," Harry excused. "You`re not actually failing the class. Your grade is fine."  
  
"I don`t care about that!" she said angrily. "You could have been caught. You could have gotten points taken from the house, or worse. We`re almost finished with magic school. Do you really want to be the famous Harry Potter who got expelled in his sixth year at Hogwarts?"  
  
"There was nothing else I could do. I couldn`t make anybody understand our reasons, so I just changed a few things."  
  
"You`re a total idiot! You can`t just turn people against a teacher like that because you personally don`t like them."  
  
"You know that`s not what it`s like. Come on," Harry sighed. "I`m always worried about the school. Everything that`s happened with the other teachers who taught that subject. Most of the time it`s turned out bad. As long as I`ve been at the school trouble has kept showing up. How can I not be on my guard when every student is in a certain way always in danger all because of me?"  
  
"You know what?" she said. "I think you`re just paranoid."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think you`re totally fucked up."  
  
Harry`s shoulders sunk and he sighed, giving up. To his surprise Hermione came forward and leaned into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. "You`re blaming yourself for the fact that some Slytherin kids shoved my head down a toilet, which is their problem for being sadists and has nothing to do with you. And you think it`s your fault that some bullying evil wizards keep showing up wanting a piece of you. You take responsibility for everything."  
  
Harry said hopelessly, "That`s what Ron was telling me, too."  
  
"Well, try and take a hint. Get a grip. And see if you can get through the rest of your sixth year without breaking any more rules."  
  
The door opened suddenly so that Harry and Hermione both had to shade their eyes from the light that poured in. It shut again and Ron was now there.  
  
"Are you two quite finished? You`re going to get in trouble. There`s probably expensive stuff in here."  
  
They looked around for the first time and noticed that they were, in fact, in a storage room for exhibit items that hadn`t been put out. There were moving paintings set against a wall and a bunch of mannequins with ancient robes of velvet and silk on them.  
  
"Let`s get out of here," Harry said, for once agreeing with Ron`s cowardly eagerness to get as far away from danger as possible. Or, in this case, as far away from getting in trouble as possible.  
  
But as soon as Ron opened the door and peeked out, he screeched, "Shit!" in a high-pitched whisper and slammed it back shut. "There`s a custodian! She saw me!"  
  
He dived behind three mannequins and Hermione and Harry both scrambled around for a place to hide. But in the process Hermione stepped on Harry`s shoelace and let out a yelp as he tripped and fell right into a painting that was leaning against the wall at a deep angle, tearing a nice hole in it the size of his bottom.  
  
Just then the door opened and a hideous witch with a cleaning apron and too much make-up on gasped at what she saw.  
  
"You`re not supposed to be in here!" she shouted. "What have you done?!"  
  
Hermione pathetically tried to explain. "Um. We`re sorry..."  
  
"Which school are you with? I`m fining it. And you both will never be allowed in this museum again!"  
  
"Oh no," Harry couldn`t help but utter sarcastically as he struggled out of the painting.  
  
"Honestly. Children these days. You two are coming with me."  
  
In the dim corner, Ron was blending in and looking like another mannequin. As the two caught criminals were being pulled out of the room, Harry looked back at Ron and whispered with a convincingly threatening look in his eyes, "I`m going to break your neck." 


	10. Punishment

"I can`t believe my ears!" Professer McGonnagal yelled terrifyingly as Harry and Hermione just sat in the chairs in the musuem lobby in silence. "This behavior is unacceptable! You are supposed to be representing our school, and you`ve gone and done something unthinkably foolish. I know you two are infamous for always making trouble together and you`re always running off to have fun, but even so I was just shocked to hear these kind of complaints about you. I`m completely humiliated that students from this school - and from your house, nonetheless - were doing that kind of activity in a place you weren`t even supposed to be."  
  
"Oh. I think I see now," Harry said. "You think *that`s* what we were doing in that storage room?"  
  
Hermione gasped, realizing what was going on. "Oh no, Professor. That`s not what it was at all. Harry and I don`t sneak around and do stuff like that."  
  
"And I suppose that`s why you were in there alone. Tell me, what exactly had you ditched your red-headed accomplice for? Playing hide-and- seek, I`m sure."  
  
Harry sighed hopelessly, growing more angry with Ron by the minute for hiding and weazeling out of getting punished along with his friends. However, he knew it was his and Hermione`s fault. Ron had only been in there to try and stop them from getting in trouble in the first place.  
  
"Never mind," McGonnagall said. "I don`t want to know your explanation for such ridiculous actions. Fortunately the painting you destroyed can be repaired with a spell. But thanks to you, Hogwarts will never be permitted to come here again. For this I am taking one hundred points from Gryffindor. You both will be sent back to the school immediately. Professer Flitwick will escort you back to the hotel and see that you`re sent away on a bus. I`ll send an owl ahead so that someone will be waiting to collect you and take you straight to Dumbledore."  
  
They were both pretty quiet the whole walk home. Hermione couldn`t think of any reason why she should be blaming Harry, even though that was usually the case when they got in trouble, and therefore stayed silent in a way that was most surrendering to their punishment. Professer Flitwick didn`t scold them as he was walking in the lead. In fact, Harry wondered if he didn`t even know what they had done wrong and was just volunteering so he could get out of the museum and maybe enjoy a drink in the hotel bar when they got back.  
  
Harry didn`t have much to pack. He had already put his pajamas and clothes from the day before back in his bag, and only had to recollect his toiletries. With the weight of Hermione`s bag in mind along with how many cosmetic items an average teenage girl needs to haul with her wherever she goes, Harry calculated he had ten more minutes to waste while Hermione finished getting her stuff together and used the time to clean up some cups and other garbage that remained from the party last night.  
  
When they got downstairs Professer Flitwick had already summoned a bus and it was waiting outside for them, and in no time they were riding back to Hogwarts. And so their punishment was not nearly as bad as Professer McGonnagal seemed to have thought it would be. They really hadn`t missed anything since they had already seen the museum, and even though the other students would probably be going somewhere cool for lunch, Hermione and Harry were probably too tired to enjoy it. The beds on the bus were also much more comfortable than the seats on the Hogwarts train. Not to mention that it was completely ridiculous that they be sent home this late in the trip, with not even three hours of the experience remaining.  
  
The train`s conductor was very friendly and soon after they had left the hotel he served them hot chocolate with their lunch on a cart, a small but generous meal of vegetable soup and nut bread. After that he sat up front reading a book and they were ignored for a while. They fell asleep on the same bed, awkardly sprawled in completely opposite directions. After a very long time Harry was poked in the shoulder by the conductor until he woke up, and he found that all his blood had run to his head because he`d fallen asleep with it hanging backwards slightly off the edge of the bed, and that Hermione`s head was on his stomach. He also found that they had reached the lake that surrounded and it was time to get off.  
  
By now they were rested and in easily humored moods, and could exchange laughing smiles as they were taken across the lake with Madam Hooch. Their situation was actually very funny when they thought about it; they could almost hear Fred and George miles away on the train laughing about them right now. Admittedly it was a little embarassing that they were going to talk to Dumbledore about something like this. But Professor Dumbledore was easily one of the most friendly life forms Harry knew, and he failed to see how going to see him could ever be considered a punishment.  
  
When Madam Hooch led them to the door of Dumbledore`s office, she told them, "He already has gotten word that you`re coming. You will each go in separately and then go back to your dormitories *on your own*," she emphasized.  
  
Harry almost said sarcastically, "Damn, I was really looking forward to going back *with* her and getting it on again." In fact, this bit of dialogue was echoing in his mind to never be said as Madam Hooch opened the door and Hermione went in. Then they were soon both gone and he could only stand outside waiting.  
  
After only three minutes or so Hermione came back out, and her expression told Harry that the water was safe to get in. There wasn`t much else to say, and they had just spent the last five hours alone to talk anyway, so she just said she`d see him later and walked away to go back to her room.  
  
When he went inside the office he found Dumbledore scratching quite happily in some kind of book with his quill, and he looked up and gestured for Harry to sit down.  
  
There was a moment of drawn-out silence as he finished the sentence he was on and then finally stopped to talk to Harry.  
  
"Well," he said. "I guess you`re expecting me to be a nice guy as usual and not have the heart to accuse you of doing anything heinously wrong or even being at fault for your actions."  
  
This bewildered Harry just a little so that he took a while to answer. "Well. Yes. I mean...that is what seems to always happen."  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "And I suppose they`re expecting me to scold you, point out the errors or your ways, explain in detail how I believe you should be punished in additional ways than those Professor McGonnagal has already stated, blah blah blah, as if anyone else in this entire building is not capable of doing that themselves."  
  
Harry smiled. Then he had to ask, "Um...Professor Dumbledore, Sir?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you...even know what Hermione and I did?"  
  
"Well, let`s see. I believe I know the nature of my students. At least the ones who have been here for six years and the ones among them who seem to get in trouble a lot. At least enough to gather my own assumed truth from the supposed truth. And Miss Granger did indeed confirm my assumptions to be true."  
  
"What did she tell you?"  
  
"Not to worry, not to worry. I understand how these dating things work. And I think I can recognize which couples are the kind that go into closets to settle something out of earshot of the public, and which are the kind that go into closets to do...other things."  
  
Harry laughed. Suddenly Snape`s words about Dumbledore being senile didn`t hold as much truth to them.  
  
"Hm. But you know, you really remind me of your mother and father when they were your age," Dumbledore said. "It was exactly the same. They were friends from the beginning of their schooling here, and then around your age they quickly became the most popular couple in the school."  
  
"Yeah. Well. I guess it`s just that hormonal age, you know," Harry said, shrugging.  
  
Dumbledore laughed. "Oh, believe me. 'That hormonal age' just makes people think they feel things for people they just met. But feelings that develop with time are the most true of any. You know..." He grinned for a moment. "Every year I am able to pick out the students that will eventually be married. Your mother and father were easy. I saw them in line to be sorted; Lily was crying because the Hogwarts Express had lost track of her luggage somehow and she was scared to death of handling her first day at school, having come from a muggle family and not understanding anything. James was standing next to her, and he ripped a page from his Charms textbook for her to dry her eyes on and told her everything was going to be fine. Thought nothing of it."  
  
Harry was silent, amazed both by his story and by the very idea that Dumbledore was suggesting that he and Hermione were undoubtably going to end up married some day. "Marriage," he said thoughtfully. "Oddly enough, I haven`t yet even thought that far into my future. All I ever worry about is getting through every year of school alive."  
  
Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Don`t worry. You`ll make it." Then he paused, and added, "Just be sure your enemies don`t know where your heart lies."  
  
With that mysterious comment, Dumbledore picked up his quill pen again and said, "Off with you, Harry. I`m sure you`ve got better things to do."  
  
Harry had Dumbledore`s words lingering on his mind in a somewhat paralyzing way as he walked slowly back to his dormitory. On the way he passed a stairway where a couple Slytherins were sitting, obviously belonging to the group that had gotten sent home for the nice new body art that had resulted in failure to meet curfew. He recognized one of them as Kaliban "Kinky" Ceradick, the somewhat ring leader of the seventh year Slytherin students. As soon as they spotted him they laughed.  
  
"What you in for, Potter?" Kinky asked him.  
  
Harry was too tired. "Intercourse in public." 


	11. Hermiones Woes

Harry made his way up the unusually still flights of stairs like a sleepwalker. When he reached the entrance to Gryffindor, he muttered the password dryly and crawled through more slowly than usual, and then paused to stretch his arms above his head and wipe some smudges off his glasses once he got inside. With his arms flat against his sides, he started walking up to the boys' wing of the dormitory.  
  
But then he noticed that someone had started a fire, and that one of the tallest easy chairs had been moved over to face the fireplace. From the chair suspended an iron rod with two pieces of bread toasting on it.  
  
"Allright over there?" Harry called.  
  
"Hallo."  
  
"WALTER?"  
  
Walter Birdman indeed. His face, bearing its calm, forward expression, peered around the massive backboard of the chair. "Yup."  
  
"How...how did you get here?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"Si'down," Walter offered. "Want some toast? I stole an entire loaf from the kitchen on my way up here, I know I can't eat it all."  
  
"Um." Harry hesitantly sat down in the second easy chair facing the hearth that, he observed, Walter must have placed there, as if he had been patiently awaiting company. "I guess I am pretty hungry."  
  
With a friendly grin, Walter handed Harry another skewer with a slice of bread on it.  
  
"So, anyway...I hitched a ride with a couple Hufflepuffs that were talking too much during the tour guide's speech," Walter bluntly explained.  
  
"What did *you* do?" Harry asked.  
  
Walter looked at him blankly. "...Nothin'. Just hitched a ride. Museum got bloody boring after five minutes. I had to 'answer to Dumbledore', who assumed I'd been sent home but hadn't received notice of why, so he just had me sit there through the lecture those other kids got, and then sent me off. Assumed it was pot, probably, and he's already given me that lecture a dozen times."  
  
There was a suspended pause, and then Walter became matter-of-fact, and said, "But *you*, however, probably lost us some points, man. Thanks." He smiled in his sarcasm, obviously not very bothered. "So what did you do?"  
  
Harry thought for a second, wondering if he should explain the misunderstanding or just the fact that he'd sat on a painting.  
  
"I saw Granger come through here a minute ago. Does that answer my question?" A moment later he interrupted, "No, it couldn't be that, you're not even blushing."  
  
"We were in a closet that we shouldn't have been in," Harry explained, realizing just how uninteresting the story was. "But we weren't doing *that*."  
  
"You two are always stirring up something, it seems," Walter plucked a piece of bread off his skewer and crunched into it. "You and that Ron. Have people learned to trust you yet? You'd all seem stupid as shit if you weren't saving the whole damn school on a yearly basis."  
  
Harry was a trifle stupified at this. Walter was in his element of almost seeming able to read minds. This guy had everyone figured out so well, but Harry knew he dwelled on himself very little; his self-esteem was bland and empty and it was no wonder he was one of the only people in Gryffindor that did any drugs.  
  
"You know, Walt...," he said after a long pause. "You're kinda creepy."  
  
Having gotten their fill of toast, they moved the easy chairs so they were facing eachother, having felt a little view-obstructed from the rest of the room.  
  
"You wanna play chess?" asked Walter, looking over at a wooden set Ron and Harry regularly left sitting out in the common room.  
  
"Not really," Harry said, then admitted, "I play all the time, but Ron always wins. It gets boring..."  
  
"Ah. You know, I had this-"  
  
But Walter's voice fell. He was looking across the room, and when Harry gave him a curious look he jerked his head, gesturing for him to look over his shoulder.  
  
Harry looked to see Hermione emerging from the girl's half of the dormitories. She had un unmistakably gloomy look on her face, and the look of having just woken up out of anxiety. If she hadn't noticed Walter before, she didn't seem surprised when she saw him.  
  
"Doll...?" Harry was immediately concerned. Hermione ignored him, in a more protective than cruel way, and grabbed a book of medicinal potions from the ovular table in the middle of the room. She flipped the book open to a page that had a bookmarking, bearing the label "headaches".  
  
"Hermione." Harry sat up attentively. "You allright?"  
  
"Yeah," Hermione sighed, obviously lying. She walked over and took a glass tumbler out of a cabinet on the wall, and started digging through another cabinet that held an assortment of basic potion ingredients. Then she mumbled in the same defeated tone, "I lost the petition."  
  
For only a second Harry and Walter exchanged a look of dreadful concern, and then he stood up. "...How?"  
  
"I left it...," Hermione's voice wavered. "It's on the steps...outside the museum."  
  
Harry looked stunned, and he closed his eyes, overwhelmed. He could only stand there as Hermione dropped some herbs and powders into the glass, added half a vial of a rose-colored liquid, and gently shook it up. Then she walked past him and set the glass next to the fire.  
  
"It should be ready in an hour, but it has to stay warm," she told Harry tiredly. "Just make sure it doesn't tip over for me, okay?"  
  
She started to walk past him, but with sudden instinct he grabbed her hand, and was very surprised when she turned, her face in a heartbreakingly helpless pout, and said, "I'm really sorry."  
  
"Hermione, it's okay," he pulled her over and held her reassuringly. He couldn't remember her ever looking so sad. "It's not your fault. It's okay..."  
  
"All that work...We can't do it again, you know we can't."  
  
"It doesn't matter, we'll think of something," Harry looked over at Walter as Hermione rested her head on his shoulder. Walter hadn't even been sober long enough to give them a signature before, but he looked about as whipped as they did.  
  
"I'm going to bed," Hermione said just above a whisper, and pitifully retreated back to her room. Harry rested his hands at his waist, searching in his head for a curse word that would do the situation any justice. These thoughts were interrupted when he heard a gradual eruption of people arriving outside the entrance to the Gryffindor hall. Some ecstatically hyper voice yelled out the password, and a sudden stampede of Gryffindor children came bustling into the common room.  
  
"That restaurant was so wicked," Dean Thomas was saying to a friend. "No waiters, the food just floats out to you. The owner must be rolling in dough since he doesn't have to hire much help."  
  
"Yeah, but they got my order wrong. I felt stupid enough telling a tray I didn't want whipped cream on my pie, and it just came back with more cream piled on top."  
  
After a minute Ron found Harry sitting in the easy chair, and if he was as wise as, say, Walter, he might have concluded that something was awry when Harry was in bad spirits enough to immediately start blaming him for his and Hermione's punishment.  
  
"It wasn't my fault. I was just trying to keep you from getting caught," Ron said defensively after a brief episode of getting yelled at.  
  
"But if you hadn't panicked so much I probably wouldn't have broken anything," Harry replied, though he seemed a little dissinterested in arguing now. "Besides, it was your stupid mouth that got us in that storage room, anyway."  
  
"Well, maybe you shouldn't go doing things that you need to keep from Hermione anymore, did you ever think about that?" Ron snapped.  
  
Harry didn't have a chance to make peace.  
  
"YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Some boy had noticed Harry and was waving an infuriated finger at him. A lot of faces looked up. Harry then realized that not all of them had heard of the two Gryffindors that were sent home, and some were about to find out.  
  
"THIS NUMBSKULL AND HIS GIRLFRIEND LOST US A HUNDRED POINTS TODAY!" the angry kid went on. "A hundred FUCKING POINTS."  
  
The silence that had broke out after the first verbal attack was now threaded with surpised murmurs. Harry couldn't respond with anything but a devastated blank stare. The pleasant train ride home and the uplifting conversation with Walter was completely erased from his mind.  
  
It seemed that the remaining kids were only complaining amongst themselves, but one voice loudly proclaimed, "A hundred points? It took us all semester to get that...!"  
  
But Harry wasn't personally confronted again, and didn't say anything until he saw a group of pissed-looking girls marching with apprehensive conviction toward the dormitories.  
  
"Hey!" he ran over to them. "You can chew me out all you want, but if ANY of you even WAKE UP Hermione I'll-"  
  
"You'll what?" one responded.  
  
He smiled cynically and said, "I'll lose the next Quidditch match."  
  
It was the most arrogant thing Harry had ever said. But it worked.  
  
The griping tones of many students ensued for another five minutes, but after a while people seemed to have accepted it as something they'd just have to win back some way before the House Cup was awarded (maybe they'd only come in second this year), and the noise level became less excited.  
  
"What's that?" Ron said, pointing to the cup next to the fire. His argument with Harry had been forgotten over the commotion.  
  
"Oh, Hermione's headache potion," Harry said, going over to rotate the glass, knowing that probably wasn't even needed.  
  
"Headache?" Ron said curiously. "Hermione never gets sick."  
  
"Well, you know...stress..."  
  
"Is she *that* worked up over what happened today?"  
  
With an intake of breath, Harry said, "Well...not exactly."  
  
After Harry and Walter again exchanged understanding looks, Ron asked, "What is it?"  
  
"You better sit down," Harry said, and let Ron have his chair.  
  
"What's wrong?" Ron demanded densely.  
  
"Look, if you blame Hermione I'll kill you..."  
  
"What is it?!"  
  
And for some reason, Walter took the liberties of explaining everything to him, while Harry stood by with his arms crossed. To Harry's surprise, Ron didn't do so much as curse. But his face did fall quite a bit.  
  
"I don't get it...We were all there, you were sitting right next to her, weren't you?"  
  
Harry nodded, and with guilt added, "But you know how it is...she's like a mother to us, we're not used to having to watch things when she's around. And now she made like, the one mistake I can even remember and it just happened to be really important."  
  
They all sighed deeply. Walter simmered up another offer for a game of chess, and Ron accepted.  
  
They set up a coffee table between the two easy chairs and put the wooden set on it. Harry lent his chessmen to Walter and gave him some tips on how to get along with them, which he apparently didn't need. Harry had never seen Ron lose, but a half-hour later they were on their second game and Ron was looking dumbfounded and bitter. Harry had nothing to do but watch. Ron didn't like to make conversation over chess because it broke his concentration, and through the entire game Walter was on the edge of his chair staring intently at the gameboard, his chin rested on his knuckles.  
  
Then Hermione came to get her medicine, which had brewed to a luke- warm musky liquid. The potion must have had an ingredient for sleep aid as well, for the last Ron saw of Hermione that night was Harry carrying her up the stairs, getting strange looks from other girls.  
  
Of course, the behavior in the common room was ten times more active than usual. People seemed to have forgotten that they had arrived back from the field trip and were still wearing their street clothes, or else were changing into even more unusual things. Ron wondered if they too should lighten up; it was Friday and they were facing a weekend without any school work, thanks to the field trip.  
  
So Ron went up to the dormitory entrance, noting the surrealness when he passed by Harry coming from the girls' side. For a moment he had the awkward instinct to say something, like before pointing out to someone that they are indeed in the wrong bathroom, but then realized with stupidity that Harry was blatantly breaking the rules.  
  
"Hey, Ron," Harry said tiredly.  
  
"Hi," said Ron shortly before heading through the boys door.  
  
Harry returned to the easy chairs, finding Walter deep in thought about his next chess move. He wanted to suggest a move but felt it was too obvious, and Walt seemed a better player than he and Ron combined.  
  
Right then Harry overheard with amusement a game of "What Wizard Am I?" being played by a group of boys sitting at a window. The game had been created by Professor Binns the day he not only finally realized that he was dead, but that he had been teaching his class in the exact same fashion for almost a hundred years. The game was boring as hell in his class because they never went over the cool wizards or witches, but it soon became an extremely popular study hall game among the students, who picked everything from misleadingly obvious legendary wizards to people they knew personally.  
  
"So...," one kid recapped, "You're male; you're not from Ravenclaw; you`re not an Animagus; you were imprisoned in Azkaban for more than ten years; you weren`t alive before 1900; you`ve never taught at Hogwarts and you were not banned from Gorway for magical misconduct? What...are you Sirius?"  
  
"Of course I'm serious, I'm not making this guy up," the other player replied.  
  
"No no, Sirius Black."  
  
"....OH! No, guess again."  
  
When Harry was smirking at this overheard dialogue, Ron had returned. It was obvious to everyone that he had not intended to wear his same pants two days in a row, but Ron was hopeless as far as organization and doing things mothers usually do, like remembering to pack a full change of clothes for a following day. Now, however, he had suffered a couple stains on the plaid pants and had changed into a different pair that were slightly bell-bottomed like the others but were solid brown, and a long-sleeved shirt with a psychedelic blue and green pattern.  
  
Ron took a brief glance at the battleground still awaiting him where the chess set lay, and shuddered slightly at how things were looking for his pieces. He sighed tiredly and told Walter, "You can have this one. You`re winning anyway."  
  
Walter reacted as if he`d done some great favor for him, smiling bigly. "Hey thanks, Ron."  
  
Ron sat down beside Harry, who was being quiet and inactive. He simply nodded, acknowledging his presence. They sat in silence for a while when Ron finally blurted out his thoughts.  
  
"OK, what`s up with you?" he demanded. "You didn`t even laugh at my retarded shirt that I bought for two bucks with mold on the sleeve."  
  
"Oh." Harry looked up, actually looking sorry for not noticing. "Yes, that`s very nice."  
  
"Idiot." Ron rolled his eyes; obviously that wasn`t what was actually concerning him. "What`s up your ass?"  
  
"What is up my ass?!" Harry repeated the question, not as much in anger as in confusion at Ron`s sudden new kind of thick-headedness. "We`re stuck with Linus for the whole year and maybe for the rest of our education because our petition attempt - which was a really dumb idea anyway - has failed miserably. And even though it probably wouldn`t have worked, Hermione especially became really determined about it and got really involved in it. So now that the whole thing blew over she`s upset, and it`s my fault for suggesting we do something so pointless." He decided he should stop before he got another it`s-not-your-fault lecture, and then briefly wondered if a shrink would consider it an improvement that he was at least conscious of when he was being that way now.  
  
"But...the petition was *her* idea," Ron reminded.  
  
Harry gave him a look that said "Shut up" and was given back a look that said "Sorry."  
  
"Is that it?" Ron asked. "It seems like there`s something else bugging you, too."  
  
"No, Ron," Harry said in annoyment. "Look, I had a bad day. Like, a *really* bad day for not actually being in grave peril for once, but still not quite normally - Did you really buy a shirt that had mold on it?" he interrupted himself, Ron`s past remark just now registering and starting to bother him.  
  
In answer Ron showed him the place on the inside of his right sleeve. Harry wrinkled his nose at it, accepting the proof. Then there was a long stretch of silence between them, filled in with murmers of speech from the surrounding crowd, and then Harry finally sighed.  
  
"You`re right. There is something else bothering me."  
  
"I knew it," Ron said. "What`s up?"  
  
"Oh...It`s stupid," Harry said, rubbing his eyes under his glasses lenses. "Dumbledore just said some weird stuff when I went to see him today."  
  
"What kind of weird stuff?"  
  
He shrugged. "I didn`t really get it. It was like when you open a fortune cookie and read it, and then you read it again, and a couple more times, and you`re just kind of like 'What the hell does that mean? This makes no sense.' "  
  
Ron raised an eyebrow. "What`s a fortune cookie?"  
  
"Christ, Ron. You know 'Mick Jagger' but not 'fortune cookie'. They`re these stupid Chinese cookies with messages in them - only they were invented in San Francisco, not China - God, never mind."  
  
There was little conversation after that. While Harry`s mind was dwelling on his pathetic problems Ron was only thinking about how having messages in cookies seemed kind of advanced for Muggles, and concluded that these "fortune cookies" must have once been used to deliver messages during wars without anyone knowing about it, because his father had said once that most of the very good Muggle inventions had come about as a result of wars.  
  
Eventually Harry got either bored or tired enough to go up to his dormitory, where he found Hedwig waiting in the window for him and gave her a petting on the head as a greeting, and had soon fallen back on his bed sloppily and fallen asleep. 


End file.
